Everquest 2: The Guardian of Zek
by JohnnyReb
Summary: Return to Norrath, readers of lore and legend, fans new and old. Grab and ale and allow me to bring a new tale worth telling around a warm fire at the local tavern. This is the story of a dark elf named Varixx Tarnok and his struggles against those who would dare challenge the island sacred to the followers of Rallos Zek. This is just the beginning, the tale of a grand little war.
1. Chapter 1: A Grand Little War

The Guardian of Zek

Based on the computer game Everquest 2

By Jason Olin

This story represents a past and a world that exists within the heart and soul of anyone who holds fast to their imagination. It is a story of the horrors of war and the determination of the brave souls who engage in it. It is not a tale of a politics, nor of a damsel in distress. Absent is the shining, gallant knight who rides into battle and saves the day. Rather, this simple story focuses on a different approach, telling the tale of a tactically-minded dark elf as complex as he is formidable. In truth, it is this type of anti-hero who slays the gallant knight so often found in most fairy tales. Though his path is not of the noble light, his deeds are no less heroic. The orcs are his brothers, the citizens of the fairy tale kingdom his enemies. His story will now be known, his exploits and trials to be made known to any brave enough to read on. Every page read will forever reinforce the fact that wherever his armored boots stepped, conflict inevitably follows.

Read on now, brave soul, and hear the battle cry of Varixx Tarnok, dark elf guardian and devotee of Rallos Zek.

* * *

Chapter 1: A Grand Little War

Zek Island.

Dusk had finally descended on the island signaling the death of another day. The waning light bathed the barren landscape in reddish light not unlike the light of a candle as it shines through stained glass windows in a decadent temple of worship. The dazzling effect of the setting sun was the only saving grace the ravaged island had left to call it's own amongst the desolate landscape that earned the land its second name: The Orcish Wastes. The war-ravaged land begrudgingly allowed a touch of grotesque beauty to come along with the waning light as the cloak of night prepared to spread like a dark sheet upon the ravaged land.

Animals who dared to travel the land during the daylight hours finally began to settle down for the ascending night. Birds called out longingly to the disappearing ball of light as it sank below the horizon. Their lonely cries echoed across the planes and rugged hills that stood now as blood-stained monuments to war. They sang farewell to the welcomed light and they sang of the terror that was yet to come.

With the arrival of night also came the hunt. Out the predators came, their hungry eyes adjusting as dusk firmly settled out across the whole of the island. The war had been good to these nocturnal stalkers. There was no end to the number of corpses lying on the ground to feast upon, the rotting carcasses awaiting a most gruesome consumption.

But the coming darkness did not mean everything settled down. The war waging across Zek knew no sense of time constraint. The soldiers of Qeynos and the orcs of Zek had quickly learned this. Even at that moment, beings that would have stopped to admire the fact that nature could bring a touch of beauty even to this hellhole of an island were busy slaughtering each other with uncivil ferocity. To be more precise, in this instance, one side was slaughtering the other. Orcs whom were most eager to start a fire and cook their meager evening meal were working with haste to kill or drive off the last remnants of a Qeynosian regiment that had been harassing the extreme left flank of the widely positioned Rallosian army all day long.

A handful of seasoned knight officers commanded the remaining hundred or so former Qeynosian peasants and farmers turned foot soldiers. Through months of preparation and almost two years of combat under their belt had molded these simple people into a force far more effective than the children of Rallos Zek had prepared for. While a stalemate had gone on for quite a few hours, the arrival of several more orc platoons finally gave the savage horde the numerical advantage. As the last vesteges of daylight waned like the life of an old man, attrition came into play and the human, dwarven, and elven citizens soldiers of Qeynos began to fall in droves.

It wasn't long into the renewed attack that the order to retreat was given. Upon command, a human adjutant raised a horn to his lips and sounded off. The distressed sound echoed off the canyon walls like a mournful beast, signaling that the battle was lost. Disheartened and exhausted, the remaining foot soldiers turned and began to flee back towards their distant main line, abandoning any sense of discipline as they sought to escape death.

One knight officer and several of his most trusted soldiers held the line, fighting a rear-guard action in order to give their comrades time to escape to safety. Like a stone wall, these few brave men held back ferocious attacks that left more than a few of their green enemies speechless. These soldiers, who were not even part of an elite unit, fought unflinchingly against swords, spears, and raw animalistic ferocity. With their deaths, the death of a few, many more would live to serve another day.

The brave knight lieutenant commanding the rear-guard gazed at the sea of spears and snapping teeth as orcs rushed upon him and his determined men. Weary from so many battles, he dug deep and gripped his courage, moving forward and felling several orcs with calculated swings of his long sword. His skill awarded him attention and suddenly the enemy came at him in pairs, all eager for a worthy kill that would boost their own fame. Some paid for their eagerness and fell dead on the spot while those who remained learned quickly that even a single Qeynosian knight was worth his weight in gold.

A young orc came at him blindly and he struck the creature's shoulder with his blade that bore the seal of Antonia Bayle, the queen of Qeynos, The blow struck true, cutting deep into the flesh and muscle as the impact tossed the youth to the ground. The orc looked up at him, frightened now instead of determined. His skin turned a sickly shade of white as he gripped his grievous wound. His hue was a sharp contrast to the blood that poured from the terrible gash and trickled down his arm to collect like a grotesque pool in the palm of his hand.

The knight shook his head. _This one is so young. Why throw away his life recklessly in a battle such as this? It has next to no significance. There is no valor in any of this cold-blooded barbarism._

Sighing, he raised his sword to deliver the final blow when a hard strike from above and behind pitched him forward onto one knee. Turning his head he saw a figure in armor hovering over him, looking down silently. The face was hidden behind a mask, but his eyes conveyed a deep disgust that was clear as an Antonica summer day.

The knight rolled away and started to climb to his feet. The questions in his mind began to mount. Where the hell had this new attacker come from? How had he struck from behind so quickly?

The new arrival motioned to the young orc and then to two other orcs nearby. "To the rear with this one!" he shouted in the harsh orcish tongue. "Get him to a healer as fast as you can. He is young still and it is not yet his time to fall."

The two nearby orcs who'd heard the command detached themselves from combat and carefully hoisted the youth up, who was still looking up at his savior with a mixture of admiration and astonishment. The warrior in black moved to shield them as they ascended the small hill to their rear.

The Qeynosian officer was back on his feet and he and this strange warrior danced with their blades. The contest lasted but a moment. Parrying a few strikes, the knight attempted an overhead strike. The attack failed and the knight found that he was quite literally disarmed as his left arm from the elbow down fell to the rocky ground amidst a pool of blood. He felt his balance give way again and a terrible scream accompanied the horrible injury. His helm clanked against the ground and he tasted sand and dust. A harsh weight pressed down on his back from above.

Looking at the stump where his arm once was, the knight roused his courage, trying to get a look at the unknown attacker. "Is that all you have? You've failed today, orcish agent. Most of my unit got away to fight again next time. These pious warriors will survive to defeat you and your warmongering allies again and again and again! The end of the orcish empire on this island is quickly approaching!"

Violet eyes staring intensely from blackness created by the face-concealing helm, choking off any further words the struggling knight might utter. He moved his leg and planted his boot on the back of the knight's helm, pushing it further into the dirt. The lieutenant struggled, looking around for assistance. His heart sank as he watched the last of his brave warriors die at the hands of the orcs that surrounded him.

Alone and without hope, only one thought burned in his mind. There would be no rescue for the rescuer.

The idea of being isolated from friends and surrounded by enemies terrified him to his very core. _Is this how my life is to end? Am I really to cease to be at the hands of such crude and barbaric creatures?_

The imposing figure chuckled darkly, speaking in the common tongue most races of Norrath knew well. "Pious? Both Rallosians and Qeynosians wade amidst the slaughter of battle. Warriors on both sides die savagely at the hands of those who seek to protect their own lives. Only a citizen of Qeynos would try to romanticize this kind of a situation."

He gestured around him. "Every single soul on the battlefield is drenched in carnage and gore. Yet somehow, you fools still believe that you wage war on notions of justice and honor. There is no justice on the battlefield! With every orc you kill in the name of 'The Light' or 'Justice' do you think about the bastard children left behind, or the widows and broken families you create? Warriors like you help create the next generation of determined orc warriors from those vengeful, fatherless children of and let me assure you, we are most grateful for that. Until you grasp what war _really_ is, you fools from that presumptuous human city will never defeat us here in this most sacred of lands."

Increased pressure on the side of the helm caused the metal to creak and groan. The knight laughed despite the pain. "You waste your breath. My convictions are sound and your comments fall on deaf ears. Perhaps you are trying to intimidate me?"

"No," his opponent's deep voice replied. "Just break you."

With a bit more applied pressure the protective metal helm gave way with a groan of tearing metal. The knight's skull quickly followed suit. He barely had time to grunt before his brain was ground into paste, mixing with the dust and rocks. A second later the brave human was just another digit in the growing number of casualties in the war.

"Most satisfying." Flicking blood and brain matter off his boot, Varixx Tarnok turned from the broken husk to find his soldiers standing at strict attention in front of him, their weapons coated with the blood. Varixx raised his own sword and the orcs around him howled with almost maniacal glee.

He switched to speaking orcish again, a heavily accented version of the harsh language. "You made our god Rallos Zek proud this day, my warriors! Fall back to the heights to the south and make camp. Cook your dinners and eat well! You all deserved as much for this day's work."

An orc youth brought Varixx his miniature war rhino and he mounted the beast, turning in the saddle to address one of his aides. "I want all of my unit commanders at my tent in two hours for an after combat briefing. I will have new orders for them at that time."

With that, he flicked the reins and made for his camp, watching the landscape around him illuminate like hellfire as the soldiers of his legion began constructing their nighttime campfires behind the watchful gaze of the picket guards.

It had all started almost two years ago. A Qeynosian merchant ship had been carrying vital supplies to the halflings who had courageously remained on the EnchantedLandsIsland to fight for the reclamation of what was theirs against the insidious creatures of the void. The crew had sailed too close to Zek and as a result, had met disaster at the hand of orc naval ships off the coast. Like a powder keg, the situation exploded into violence. Another cargo ship succumbed to the orcs the month after and its helpless crew had been mercilessly cast into the turbulent, shark infested sea.

Qeynos had been quick to act. Receiving orders from Queen Antonia Bayle, elements of the royal navy had moved in and quickly obliterated the much smaller orc navy. With that task complete and the bloodthirsty orc sailors sent to the bottom of the sea as just punishment, the entire strength of the navy was augmented with additional ships from Qeynos harbor. Under the orders of High Admiral Jeeris, the vast navy encircled the island as troop transports carrying the forces of the queen's army landed at the Warship Docks and offloaded legions of soldiers determined to wipe out the Rallosian threat once and for all.

During the early days of the war, the Qeynosian army made of up of the combined might of humans, cat-like kerra, gnomes, halfling, sturdy barbarians, wood elves, half elves, high elves, dwarves, and the noble amphibian frogloks won decisive battles against the orcish hordes, driving the creatures into the hills of their own island. It was during this time that Rallos Zek worshipping devotees, called Rallosians answered the call to war, determined to help the orcs, one of several creations personally created by Zek himself. One of these religious fantatics, Varixx Tarnok had heard about the war as news of the budding conflict spread across the vast expanse of Norrath. Without question he had answered the unspoken call for duty, leaving his profitable mercenary profession and his daughter back home within the dark elf capitol city of Neriak.

Zek devotees converged on ZekIsland in mass to prove their loyalty to the God of War no matter the cost. Breaking through gaps in the Qeynosian blockade in fast little transport ships cost many a warrior his or her life as the queen's ships blasted or burned them out of the water.

The largest group of blockade-surviving warriors landed and converged on the northeastern edge of the island, not more than fifteen miles from Deathfyst Citadel. Not surprisingly, Varixx found that many of the warriors present were ogres, another race created by Rallos, though there were a fair number of orcs from different tribes on other continents that had come to aide their more organized brothers. Varixx had been the only dark elf present, but none of the other warriors had known that since he'd been, as ever, concealed in his full suit of armor.

While the situation became ever bleaker due to the swiftness in which the odds of battle shifted against the orcs, there were opportunities still to reverse the tide.

Varixx had been absolutely ecstatic the first day he'd taken to the field of battle. His long slumber underground before and after The Shattering, a series of cataclysmic earthquakes that had torn the once large continents into many smaller islands, both of these events had robbed him of the chance to participate in both the Second Rallosian War and the War of the Fae. At last his chance for glory and combat had arrived.

Having taken an extended pilgrimage to Zek a few years prior to the war, Varixx had an upper hand with the ranking orc leaders when he and the survivors had arrived at the castle to enlist their services. Back in those days, before the war, he'd proven his worth over a period of three agonizing months and gained the trust and respect of the orcs with nothing short of determination, blood, and sweat. He'd once even dined with Emperor Fyst along with several other honored guests. In addition, Varixx had made friends with an up-and-coming legion officer named Zorg and the two quickly forged a relationship akin to brothers.

Meeting with Zorg after breaking through the Qeynos blockade, Varixx found that his old friend was now the supreme commander of the Army of Zek Island, surpassed in authority only by Emperor Fyst and his sons. Varixx had been warmly received and quickly offered a military command of his own which he'd eagerly accepted. For the Teir'dal Guardian, it felt like a defining moment of his existence, as if he'd been born solely for the purpose of fighting this war on hallowed ground. Starting out as a regimental commander, he'd quickly worked his ways up the ranks to general and commanded first a brigade, then a division, a corps, and finally, an entire legion. Time and time again he joined in battle alongside comrades and superiors alike and never shied away from danger.

Once, during the early days of the war, he'd been asked how he fought so easily without fear. Shrugging his shoulders, Varixx had simply said "If I am to fall, let it happen at least on sacred soil."

During the first year of the war, the orc army had reorganized and rearmed with all the power the scant resources of the island could provide. This did little to change the situation around, at least at first. Gaining control of first a quarter and then virtually half of the island, the Qeynosian army seemed almost invincible. With an army of well trained soldiers complimented by skilled archers, ballista crewmembers, and heavy mounted cavalry, they continued to break through any line of defense the orcs constructed to stop the offensive.

For several long months the Qeynosians advanced further and further into the island with relative ease, linking up with the Green Hoods. Servants of Tunare, the Green Hoods were the last defenders of Zek's vanishing forests and they protected the remaining trees from the consumption of the ravenous orc war machine. Overjoyed with the prospect of retaking the island that had once been part of an expansive forest, the Green Hoods had quickly rallied to the Qeynosian cause.

The Blood Ore valley had been taken next and the orcs were forced to abandon their lumber mill and expansive mine in that area. The soldiers of the queen had wasted little time in using these sites to add to their growing demands for war materials. It had been an absolutely devistating loss for the orcs, economically more than militarily.

On the Qeynosians pressed with their vast army. The druid rings and SpiritLake fell after one great push. The orcs fell back to the larger mountains and entire divisions took shelter in large caves, determined to hold back the ever increasing tide of enemy soldiers. It was this terrain more than anything else that allowed the orcs to finally start holding their own. As the ground grew more mountainous with rocky peaks jutting into the sky, the use of cavalry and artillery of the Qeynos army was largely negated. In this domain the orcs were the masters and more soldiers of Qeynos began to fall from orc archers and soldiers positioned atop the heights, or from ambushes that struck without warning and successfully escaped back into hiding. This gave pause to the invaders and allowed the orcs time to train a far greater amount of troops in new tactical ways to handle the Qeynosian threat and their advanced weaponry.

This lead to a series of victories that lead to a silver lining to shine through in the cloud that was over a year of steady defeats. Just after Frostfell at the onset of the second year of the war, a corps worth of Qeynosian foot soldiers and archers concentrated on a single point in the orcs' mountain defense line just beyond the Green Hood camp and broke through. Threatening to reach Deathfist Citadel and effectively cutting the available orc army in half, the Rallosians rallied any warriors they could atop Deathfist Lookout, a large mountain standing virtually alone across a wide open field. Attempts by the human-led forces to bypass the mountain had resulted in a costly disaster as orcs fired arrows and threw down boulders on the forces below. A siege of the mountain lasted for over two weeks, but orc reinforcements, taken from the front line at the southern end of the island, broke the siege, freeing their starving brothers and forcing the enemy back across the mountains.

It was a vital victory for the orcs. But as with all things, there was a price to pay. The weakened defensive lines in the southern half of the island fell under a three prong attack in the place that had one been known as the MythicalForest. With losses piling up, the orcs felt compelled to retreat, thus surrendering just over half of the island to Qeynosian control and placing the Sullon orc tribe's mine and lumber mill in danger of enemy occupation.

Encouraged by this important victory, the queen's army reinforced their lines all across the island, preparing for further advances. The great road beyond the MythicalForest led all the way to the citadel and to the end of the war. "To the citadel and victoryl!" became the slogan of the army and bets were placed between the different corps commanders as to whose force would lead the capture and execution of the orc emperor.

Adaptation proved to be absolutely necessary as the second year progressed. It was not a difficult concept for the races born of the god of war. The orcs were ever zealous and eager to fight and rebuilt their ranks. To do this, they drew on just about all the orc settlements on the island. Even Deathfyst Citadel relinquished many of its defenders to add to the army's strength. Well behind the lines in the few areas still safe from enemy incursion, vast training camps pumped out green yet eager warriors by the hundreds.

Reinforced, the green horde descended from the heights again like a tide of vengeance and clashed with the Queen's Army. They were now equal armies on the battlefield. Gone were the days of one-sided victories and quick routs. Inexperienced soldiers on both sides fell by the wagon load, and those who survived quickly became efficient veterans. As the battles grew more intense and violent, it was hard to find a soldier on either side that hadn't seen at least one family member or close friend meet their demise on the horrid island. The Qeynosians viewed it simply as a tragic event, a horrible side effect of the war. The orcs accepted this same fact with joy that the family member had died in battle. While there was certainly sadness at the loss of a family member, the thought that the deceased would join Rallos in the plane of war brought peace, especially when the warrior had died in a battle that had resulted in a victory.

The second year of the war dragged on into the eleventh month. As the mountains of corpses piled up on both sides it was perfectly clear that victory wouldn't come easily for either side. Essentially deadlocked, the soldiers of both sides settled in to fight the war until it's as of yet unforeseeable conclusion, one side clinging to its values of truth and justice and the other a lust for battle and total domination of the invading army.


	2. Chapter 2: Feeding the Slaughter

Chapter 2: Feeding the Slaughter.

Exhausted from the day of hard fighting, Varixx wiped the last bit of blood from the fallen knight officer off of his armor and climbed down off his mount, glancing around at his camp on the fringe end of his unit's battle line. He walked over to a nearby cliff that gave a commanding view of the surrounding lands below, feeling the soothing wind blow through his armor. Several large jagged rocks jutted up nearby and he signaled to his two bodyguards that he wished to be alone. Having served under him this long, both of them knew when he did not wish to be disturbed. Retreating behind the cover of the rocks, Varixx waited until the last specs of sunlight disappeared beyond the horizon and removed his helm, breathing deeply and wiping his sweaty bangs from his ravaged face.

He leaned back against the rock and watched as the night stars unrolled like a blanket over the land. The moon was full tonight; its hue almost as red as the blood that even now soaked the grounds of the field of battle below. Here on this cliff without the eyes of his soldiers upon him, Varixx finally allowed himself to relax. He let his shoulders sag a bit as a long, relaxing sigh of escaped his lips. How long had he been fighting in Zek now? Years? Decades? Time seemed to fly by on a chariot.

Arriving on Zek as an ally, he now stood above all but the most senior orc military and royalty as a Legion General. The rank and honor his brothers had bestowed upon him swelled his chest with pride. He was glad to be doing Rallos' bidding and help to fight this war with Qeynos. This was where he was meant to be. Battle was his profession and what he existed for.

Still, even a dark elf could occasionally experience loneliness. During the lull between battles, when there wasn't constant activity to keep his mind busy, Varixx found himself growing a bit homesick. He felt no shame in this. Surely for all his good work and ferocious loyalty he could be allowed to have a few moments of longing every now and then. He missed his daughter, the most important person in his life. This generated another sigh from his lips and he wondered what she was up to back home.

Alexhandria hadn't heard from him in quite some time. A besieged island in the middle of the ocean left him little chance of being able to dispatch a letter back to the mainland. Still, he'd neglected her for far too long even before he'd set out for war. He knew that he was a sad excuse for a father. Looking down at his open gauntlet he mashed his teeth a bit. Did his child know how much he loved her, missed her? It was true he wasn't very open about it, at least not very often, but did Alexhandria take comfort in the fact that he missed her or did she feel absolutely abandoned?

He shook his head. No, she was a loyal daughter, every bit the tough as nails warrior that he was. She understood his calls to battle when they arose. Every time he'd returned to her in the past she'd accepted him with open arms. With her mother dead, Alexhandria had long ago forged herself into a tough child and hadn't so much as whispered a complaint at Varixx's tardiness. Perhaps being the child of a Rallosian, she in turn understood his duty. Perhaps she understood his fanatical devotion and praised him for it. If she'd ever been mad at him she'd never said so and news of his returning home after a mission had always helped her to forgive his absenteeism.

Would she this time though? Would his daughter despise him for not being there when she needed him the most? He'd never been gone from home this long before.

"I don't know." He looked up into the night sky feeling uncomfortably isolated and insignificant. "Too many questions and not enough answers..."

His holy work here was very important but he felt like he was needed back home. It was just a nagging hunch in the back of his mind. He knew that only by surviving and winning the war could he ensure that his return home was one of honor. To leave before victory or defeat was finalized would be akin to running away with his tail between his legs. Such an action was unthinkable. He would die before acting with such disgrace. Besides, even if he were to flee the battle, he knew his like-minded daughter would absolutely not approve.

"Just a while longer yet, my dear. Just wait. The enemy hasn't killed me yet. Rallos willing, I'll survive this war and return to you soon."

He looked up at the sea of stars and wondered just how long soon would be.

Reattaching his helm he blew a kiss into the wind for his little girl before once again becoming the hard as rock legion commander, stepping out from the rocks to meet his gathering commanders and plan the next phase of his legion's part in the grand war that raged across the broken island.

Two days later.

The Battle of Jagged Hills.

The Qeynosian high command had quickly grown tired of the constant skirmishes and surprise raids that harassed their forces from all sides. An order came down the chain of command, one that orc spies discovered and worked frantically to pass on to their commanders. It had been created and passed down by a brilliant young general named Maya Stands who'd recently come to the attention of the orc leadership due to her string of well engineered victories on the field of battle earlier in the year. The victories had brought her status and fame, but it had also made her a target in the eyes of her enemies.

Her plan ordered the forward most troops to prepare for another offensive. When one army corps took a position and solidified it, another corps would move ahead immediately and take further territory, giving the orcs no respite or room to rest and regroup after a battlefield defeat.

It was a bold new attack that would bring the army's control of the island from sixty to seventy five percent or more if successfully carried out. Believing the orcs could be severely demoralized with a series of quick knock out attacks, it was hoped that such a battle strategy could decisively shorten the war and bring the coveted prize, Deathfist Citadel, into attack range.

When news of this alarming strategy was brough to the orc war council, they took initiative by the horns and struck first. Three full legions assaulted the forward most Qeynosian position at the Jagged Hills, just east of the MythicalForest. Two corps of the vast Qeynos army were on hand and outnumbered. This left them more than content to wait behind their impressive trench defenses, allowing the enemy to make the almost mile long assault run to them.

Ordered to keep away from the front line by Supreme General Zorg himself, it was impressed upon Varixx that a legion commander's life was not expendable. The war had cost the orcs seven so far, and they could ill afford to lose any more. Chaffing under the order but determined to carry it out, Varixx surveyed the battle from behind his legion, anxiously stirring in his saddle atop a small hill half a mile behind the lines. To his front, his battle-hardened warriors surged forward. At about eighty five percent combat power –high numbers given that these warriors had endured over a year of bloody combat-related attrition- his command was to be an essential part of the attack.

Following orders, he directed the assaulted against the left front sector of the Qeynosian line. The hope was that hitting the flank where the enemy was supposed to be weaker would enable a breakthrough and a possible chance to roll up of the enemy lines. At the same time, the other two legions would assault the center and right flank areas of the enemy line, keeping any possible reinforcements locked down. In theory it was a sound plan. But even after an observational mission had been conducted several days before, the high command had still underestimated the impregnability of the Qeynosian defenses.

Today the orcs were paying the price.

Watching the chaos of battle unfold, Varixx set his jaw like a steel trap as he watched scores of his warriors fall to arrow and heavy ballista attacks from behind well prepared Qeynosian trenches and wall fortifications. The drums of war sounded all around him and orc war priests made sacrifices and prayers at portable shines on the behalf of their attacking brothers, beceeching Rallos for victory.

When he'd first received orders to partake in the attack, Varixx had been against it. He knew why it had to be done but he wasn't sure the price would justify the attack. If the queen's army was allowed to fully enforce Jagged Hills it would give the enemy a fine position to launch attacks in the heart of the remaining orcish territory. However, the loss of so many seasoned troops in a full frontal assault would, in his opinion, deliver about the same level of devastating consequences.

The decided infantry assault had not been the council's first choice however. The first suggested idea had been to send all available mounted cavalry forces into battle. The Qeynosians had prepared for that possibility in advance, creating a vast line of Cheval-de-frise that extended along the entire battle line. Sharpened poles of wood entrenched at ninety degree angles, the Cheval-de-frise could easily impale any horse or rider unlucky enough to be caught on its path. This cavalry deterrent lay just in front of the defensive wooden barriers that protected the archers, knights, and foot soldiers.

The next idea was to flank with the cavalry, or perhaps strike the enemy from behind. Recon patrols sent out to assess the potential of this plan quickly discovered that seasoned Qeynosians horse cavalry vigilantly patrolled these vulnerable areas, protecting the rear echelons, field hospitals, and supply depots. Thus the second plan was dashed.

That left only one viable option: a coordinated infantry attack where sheer numbers would prevail.

It was believed that three legions would be enough to break the Qeynosian line. Observing from his position as the offensive thundered on, Varixx wasn't so sure. He'd have been much happier if there had been time to bring up a few extra batteries of catapults to pelt the enemy positions with before the assault. The few batteries he had on site did what they could, unloading heavy stones over the heads of the advancing orcs, trying to soften the enemy line.

Storms of arrows fell from the sky, hindering the orcs as they began to fall, forcing their comrades to crawl, leap, or climb over the bodies of the dead. Officers kept the men together and moving forwards even as more arrows continued to wipe massive holes in the ranks. Warriors unlucky enough to be wounded and not killed outright found themselves being trampled underfoot by their brethren. It was as unfortunate as it was unavoidable. The army could only go one way and the fast pace of the advance left them no time to move fallen warriors to safety.

Varixx straightened his back, watched with a focused eye as his warriors finally reached the enemy lines, weaving through or dismantling the Cheval-de-frise and surging over the defensive wooden barricades. He clenched his fist tightly as hope gave wings to his heart for the first time all day. _Yes! Break them! That's it!_

He knew that if even a part of the enemy line fell apart it could lead to a rout of both enemy corps. His soldiers did their job well, and now the orcs began to repay the losses they'd received thus far with interest. At close ranges the orcs had an advantage in strength and endurance. Because of their size and brutality, it usually took two or three humans to match or overpower a single orc.

As the two forces collided during the second hour of battle, the orcs, while slightly outnumbered in this sector of the battlefield, easily held their own against the backbone of Qeynosian infantry.

Gnome and human mages as well as other magic casters stood off on the sidelines, pelting the orcs with destructive spells as well as unleashing a torrent of magical beasts and monsters. Energy ripped through an entire battle line of orcs, grabbing the attention of the rest of the legion. With howls of rage the incensed orcs descended on the casters as they attempted to flee to a safer position. Fresh human foot soldiers appeared and intercepted the surge, but they paid a heavy price as their cloth wearing brethren retreated to safer ground.

The Qeynosian army began to waver as scores of brave soldiers began to fall, some hideously wounded but still trying to crawl away with whatever limbs they still had attached. At last the men and women began to fall back, fleeing their overrun trenches. Varixx felt another surge of excitement and longed to be out there with his men, cutting a hole deep into the enemy ranks while directing the efforts of his warriors.

Suddenly something changed. A horn blew a command that Varixx wasn't familiar with. It echoed across his section of the battlefield, drowning out the sound of metal on metal and the screams of the dying. As if on cue, the solid line of foot soldiers and knights that were still fighting a valiant defense began to form up into two columns, deliberately creating a large hole in their lines. The orcs paused in confusion, but it didn't take long for them to understand what was happening.

A column of heavy knights on horseback appeared from over one of the many hills, screaming towards the hole in their own line as their swords rose high. Like a living arrow, the line of cavalry cut or trampled through the nearest orc mass, carrying out an unstoppable counter-attack.

Varixx's heart fell like the broken shards of Luclin. _Oh no._

This kind of strategy was unprecedented in its guile and hinted at a very formidable enemy officer, most likely that cursed Maya Stands. To have troops break away during a full on attack to make way for a surprise cavalry charge was absolutely unheard of in its required discipline. It was also absolutely and devisatingly successful.

Varixx's legion quickly began to retreat in a blind panic, trying unsuccessfully to flee the mounted knights. Hooves crushed skulls and swords descended like promised death, cutting through his routed warriors with ruthless efficiency. Heads fell to the ground like chopped blades of grass. Warriors who had so energetically leaped or climbed over the Qeynosian defensive works were now tired, and these barriers now worked to keep them in, with nowhere to run. For every six orcs who tried to climb over the barrier, only three or four made it. The enemy horses leapt over these barriers with ease, and the Cheval-de-frise defenses that could keep out enemy cavalry did not impede them since they were coming from the opposite direction.

Varixx leapt onto his war rhino and grabbed an adjutant roughly by the shoulder. "Captain, I'm going to have the horn blower sound the call to muster for the Mounted Vengeance," he said in a tight but controlled tone. "Reorganize our forces and evacuate the wounded to safety. Reform the line as best you can."

"But sir," the captain said with a lisp, missing one of the prominent tusks some orcs sprouted from their bottom jaws. "The Supreme General ordered you not to participate in the attack. His orders were clear-"

"I am not participating in an attack!" Varixx snarled, losing his patience. "I am organizing a rear guard defense to deploy out and save my legion! Carry out your orders or I _will_ kill you and find someone who can!"

Flicking the reigns in annoyance, Varixx spurred his mount into action. The rhino gave a snort and ran down the hill at an impressive speed considering its girth. He signaled to the horn blower who, upon seeing his leader, scrambled to mount up on his own rhino and follow. "Give the command to muster! Rally the warriors with me!"

The orc brought a horn to his lips and echoed out a shrill note, repeating it at five second intervals as his mount fell into step with Varixx's. A commotion arose from behind the lines and the orc supply crews and other noncombatants who knew the call scrambled to get out of the area so as to avoid the inevitable stampede of Varixx's mounted unit.

Varixx patted his rhino on the head. "Perform well today, Devastator. Today is your day. Unleash hell."

The use of cavalry was as familiar to the orcs as it was to any other established army. The difference was that horses were a rare luxury on Zek and as such, were limited to the royal family and the top officers of the military. The bulk of the cavalry was made up of cheaply imported wargs or the use of local mountain lions that were domesticated and trained for war. In both these cases, only smaller orcs were suited for riding given that such beasts were not designed for transport. While fast and maneuverable, they were not a match for seasoned Qeynosian heavy horse cavalry.

Using his own considerable funds to rectify this problem, Varixx had managed to get a blockage runner ship through the siege of Qeynosian war ships about a year ago. Its cargo contained thirty five Kunarkian rhinoceros that had been specially bread and trained to work as mounted cavalry. Varixx's personally trained cavalry platoon had come to be known as the Mounted Vengeance due to the terrible toll they took on enemy lives. Because they were few in number, Varixx limited this special unit that was entirely under his control to scouting or counter-attack operations like this one.

A low rumble, like the growl of a hill giant, signaled the unit's mobilization. Charging over the hill, the skilled orcs riders maneuvered the beasts behind Varixx, thumping their chests and crying out with pride and reverence for their leader as the thirty five warriors lined up. Drawing his ancient and sacred sword Vel'Arek, Varixx pointed it towards the enemy line. "Cover our soldiers and help them to escape! Do not attack the enemy lines. Concern yourselves only with forcing back their cavalry!"

Another cry came forth as confirmation followed by the sound of spears clashing against shields, standard issued weapons for his platoon. Varixx nodded at their motivation, at last allowing a wicked grin to spread across his mask-covered face. Leading the charge with his warriors in tow, they thrilled at the coming battle, holding their weapons at the ready. Kick up a cloud of dust the grunting and snorting rhinos advanced like a wall of gray, leaving enough of a gap for the infantry to run through in their bid to escape.

Though surprised, the Qeynosian cavalry did not stop their advance, taking comfort perhaps in their greater numbers. Raising their swords until they shone majestically in the waning sunlight, the battle cry was given and the mounted knights continued to close in, intending to sweep every last orc from the battlefield.

Sensing the imminent conflict, the rhinos lowered their heads as they'd been trained to do and when a horse drew near, they flicked their duel-horned heads up, goring the unfortunate creature. Outweighing a horse by more than three tons, these creatures slammed through the advancing horse cavalry like a blade through paper. A terrible clash of metal and flesh shook out across the battlefield as the two forces met. Varixx had the advantage and as the first wave of opposing cavalry passed through each other, initial contact left many horses maimed or dead. Knights who were lucky enough to survive being knocked off their steeds found themselves facing the possibility of being trampled by the rampaging exotic creatures or the horses of their own men.

The line of rhino cavalry turned around and proceeded to charge the stalled Qeynosians again, intent on keeping them from reaching the last of the legion's infantry as they vacated the field. A barbarian dressed in the trappings and armor of a holy paladin swung his sword in a circle around his head, biding his soldiers to charge the orcs again as well. Stuborn and proud, neither force was content to just leave the field.

The spears of the orcs had a far greater reach than any sword; this difference in length quickly gave the over all advantage to the Rallosians. One mounted orc was worth a dozen humans in this case and it wasn't long before horses were tripping and stumbling over the carcasses of their own.

Propelling himself off of his mount, Varixx landed on the hind section of a nearby horse and speared the surprised soldier up through his kidneys. Stabbing the horse through the head, Varixx leapt off and landed on the ground as the creature gave a choked scream, falling into a heap as two other mounted soldiers behind it collided with the body, throwing them to the ground.

A voice shouted in challenge and Varixx whirled around, instinctively ducking low as a spiked mace swung over head. Pivoting and swinging his sword in an upward arc, he cut through the belly of the challenging knight's horse, grabbing the shocked warrior before he could even hit the ground. Locking eyes as the human's gaze went from awestruck to panicked, Varixx disemboweled his foe at just below the breastplate armor line and tossed the corpse the ground. He gave a distinct call which his mount answered with a loud grunt, turning and bowling over several surprised cavalrymen in an attempt to reach his rider. Varixx focused on that direction and sprinted, jumping almost unnaturally into the saddle to resume his ride.

Another horse approached as Varixx turned Devastator around. With his armor shining against a backdrop of violence, the paladin commander rode toward him, slowly and purposefully. Varixx allowed him to advance, taking his measure. The barbarian looked to be slightly smaller than most of his kind but his blue eyes and red hair blazed with a dedication to valor that almost made Varixx rethink the knight's threat level.

In the end though, even pious paladins can give in to war fervor. Howling like a breaking glacier, the barbarian came at him, his weapons held high and to the side. Inwardly, Varixx sighed, shrugging his shoulders and moving to match. His enemy had given him a perfect shot and he'd be a fool to not take it. Feigning a charge of his own, Varixx took a second to aim and released his sword, throwing it at the knight before he could even blink.

There was the sound of an impact as the blade's point passed between the gap in the helm that ran from the man's chin to the middle of his forehead. Throwing with such force, the sword easily protruded from the back of the knights skull, pushing the helm forward over his eyes. Not that it mattered; the man was dead on impact. His beautiful white mare continued its forward run, unaware that its rider was dead. Reaching Varixx, the body pitched sideways and fell to the ground with a solid thud. Reaching down from the saddle, the dark elf plucked his weapon back from the paladin's skull and promptly forgot that the man had even existed. No thoughts could be spared for unworthy opponents.

Around him the battle raged on. There were no orders or plans; such devices had unraveled long ago. As with all battles, strategy had devolved into the simple art of trying to stay alive by killing all the enemies in one's path. Several mounted orcs had fallen, but most remained in the fight, acting as a moving shield as the last wounded orc stragglers made it safely off of the field.

Varixx assessed the situation with a quick glance around. The advantage was lost and the momentum spent. Shouted a command to the horn blower, the signal went out that it was time to retreat in good order. His disciplined platoon turned and rode back towards his retreating infantry, engaging and killing any enemy cavalry who still pursued. Arrows zipped through the air around them, and two more of his soldiers fell off their mounts with what looked to be mortal wounds. Moving swiftly, Varixx hacked apart two more human soldiers who blocked his path. The ranged attacks couldn't persist with any degree of success as he and his forces quickly moved well out of range.

Stopping in place, the shaken but largely intact Qeynosian cavalry force tightened their hold on the reigns, loath to let the enemy go but smart enough to know when to call a halt to their gains. As they rode back to safety behind their lines, dwarven workers carrying stone and wood worked to reinforce any damage done by the orc assault as more and more soldiers were marched in to prepare for any further attacks to come.

Varixx slowed his mount and directed his attention towards stretcher-bearing crews who were busy loading up the less severely wounded onto wagons bound for the rear. "Help all the wounded you can safely reach. Have our marksman kill the wounded who are out of reach on the field of battle. We cannot allow the Qeynosians the chance to gain any intelligence information through interrogation."

His adjutant rode up waving a hand at the dust flying in front of his face. "Sir, the Supreme General is asking for your comments on the battle. What should I report, sir?"

Varixx eyed the battlefield silently for a moment. While he enjoyed any and all kinds of battle, defeats still left a slightly bad taste in his mouth. "Tell him it was a bloody mess. My legion will reform and deny the enemy any further chance to capitalize on the defeat inflicted here today. That is the best I can do to rectify this situation."

Solemnly, the aide saluted and left to carry out his report.

Clenching his teeth, Varixx began delegating down to his staff, salvaging the end of a broken day as the sun sank mercifully behind the mountains, drawing a blanket of darkness across the gore covered landscape.


	3. Chapter 3: For the Honor of Queen and

Chapter 3: For the Honor of Queen and Qeynos.

Badly mauled, the three orc legions fell back as night rose to consume the land. Elven and Ratonga night crews carrying torches moved out to find and retrieve wounded soldiers and fresh troops were brought to the front as well as several more batteries of ballistas. Crews of humans and barbarians labored to entrench the heavy weapons on the commanding hill tops that gave the Jagged Hills its name.

The battle was over but the clean up and repairs had just begun.

Walking delicately through the medical camp half a mile or so behind the main lines, half elf Lieutenant General Maya Stands surveyed the harsh payment for victory with mournful blue eyes. While her losses in today's battle hadn't been extremely high, there was still a sea of bodies writhing in agony. The wounded soldiers, some dying, some not, were in various states ranging from grazing wounds and other non-life threatening injuries, to grotesque specticals such as soldiers clutching stumps where arms or legs had once been or holding onto wounds on their bellies, trying to push their entrails back inside their bodies.

One soldier was entirely missing his bottom jaw and he looked up at his general, making gurgling sounds as he tried to gain her attention. Gently, he reached up with one trembling hand, reaching for her as if she were a majestic angel of mercy.

Maya struggled not to look away and instead forced herself to gaze hard at the wounded men and truly understand their suffering. As a commander she was responsible for their well-being and as their leader, all these wounded and dying soldiers were her responsibility. What made her such an excellent commander was that she took her duties to heart and refused to look at her soldiers as mere numbers. Much later, when she was alone in her tent there would be time to shed tears for those who had fallen and ultimately died for a cause so far from home.

Gently she knelt down beside the soldier and took his hand in hers realizing that he was a boy of no more than twenty. He'd been handsome once. What was left of his face told of a boyish charm that went along with his pale gray eyes. Bending down towards him, she realized that he wasn't going to survive. Being a paladin priest as well as a commanding officer, she had the authority to perform last rites and prayer sessions. Holding tightly to the soldier's hand as tears fell down his face, Maya noted that his injury denied him the ability to even scream in pain or pass on a final request to her. Feeling her heart break, she thanked him deeply for his service and began to pray for him, giving him a measure of courage as he prepared for death in his final hour.

She held his hand until the end came. As his body was being carried away to be shipped back home she rendered a stiff salute for his bravery and the bravery of all those who continued to suffer.

More hands reached out her as she walked around the camp. She was respected by just about everyone and her presence was a form of comfort in itself. Soldiers tried to touch her boots or brush a fingertip against her cloak. Some called out to her, vowing to fight again once their injuries healed. Her hand went out and she shook hands with these warriors and offered up comforting words. While her area of expertise was combative spells, she could heal or bandage up most non-serious wounds. She did what she could for those lucky enough to not have received crippling wounds.

Hours passed and the pain of the place as well as exhausting much of her strength thru magic took its toll on her. Heading back to camp to rest, she stopped by the healers' tent and made sure that the wounded would have plenty of food, water, and warm blankets for the cold evening to come. Once she was satisfied that their needs would be met, Maya headed back into camp with the dried blood of her soldiers coating her normally shining armor.

The moans of pain carried on the wind behind her and for once she cursed her half elven sense of hearing.

Maya was almost back to her command tent when she was dealt an unexpected surprise. Walking up to her with four elite guards around him was none other than High General Learkis, a human male well into his fifties with salt and pepper in his hair and neatly trimmed beard. Stopping in place, Maya came to attention and saluted sharply, holding it until he returned the show of respect.

"Sir! Welcome to the Jagged Hills defensive line!"

He smiled gently. "Thank you, genera Maya. To be honest with you, such places of death hold little welcome for me."

"For me either sir," she admitted easily. "I apologize. No word came to me that you would be visiting. If I had known-"

"You would have come and met me and ensured that I arrived safely," he finished, still smiling. "It is alright, Maya. You had your hands full here and pulled off an impressive victory. Quite commendable! I believe the wounds you inflicted on their ranks will force them back for the time being."

"Thank you sir! But I fear we did little but put them off for a time. It was far from a crippling blow."

"It was enough," he assured her gently. "This position has been secured and I doubt the orcs will try another frontal assault against such a strong position. We've taken almost three quarters of their island and this victory will surely help lead into an end to this terrible war."

"I hope so," she sighed softly. "It has gone on so long. Who would have thought?"

"War is nothing but a series of unknowns that must be dealt with in the most organized and disciplined way possible," he said, gently putting a hand on her shoulder as they walked toward her camp. "But all that aside, I have new orders for you."

She nodded. "Yes sir. I will obey."

"I'm putting you in command of this position at the Jagged Hills. You fought to take it and fought today to keep it and so it is rightfully yours. I don't need to tell you what an important position this is. We have to hold it to keep our supply lines strong and to put further pressure on the orc battle lines to the north."

Maya nodded. "Count on me, general. I will work to strengthen our defensive positions just in case the orcs do try for another assault."

Learkis nodded. "Take some time to rest too. That's an order. You look as if you are about to fall over where you stand. You've won many battles and earned my undying respect as my most dependable field officer. I'll need you to be fresh when our next offensive comes and it will sooner rather than later. Off to bed with you now. I'll be leaving soon for the rear to meet with some of the Green Hood representatives."

"Yes sir."

Slowly she moved off toward her tent and the sleep she so desperately needed. Learkis called her name and she turned to look at him, pausing in midstride. "Sir?"

"Rest well. You do your people here and at home a great service."

She smiled weakly. "For Queen and Qeynos."


	4. Chapter 4: Reversing the Tide

Chapter 4: Reversing the Tide.

That night Varixx directed his legion to the safety of their previous position some three miles away from the battlefield at Jagged Hills. His soldiers were exhausted and many fell asleep where they lay. Others came together to build warm fires to cook or banish the evening chill with. It wasn't long before the entire hillside in which his legion now perched was alight with twinkling fires.

Picket guards began their vigilant watch and it was with these orcs that Varixx visited with first, passing out just a dash of his personal stash of meade along with some food and a word or two of encouragement. Even within their savage and tough society, the orc warriors appreciated the concern of their superior officers. When planning a battle it was hard to think of these peon warriors as anything but numbers. Varixx often went out among them to remind himself of their value as indivuduals. Each of them was a life in service to the military, a precious gift from the molding hands of Rallos Zek himself.

He was well received by his forces wherever he went. The effect of his presence and a few kind words did wonders for moral even after such a disastrous defeat. Questions arose from all directions as to why the battle had failed and some announced their willingness to fight again and reverse the ill tide. To this Varixx nodded and assured them that such a time for such action was fast approaching.

Moving against the backdrop of stars, Varixx then strolled through the main camp. There was no better place to observe the orc culture. Some were exhausted and slept with tattered blankets pulled up to their chins. The more hardy ones clustered around fires and tried to improve their moral with drinking songs or stories. A few of the more devote bowed low to the ground before hand carved statues of Zek's likeness. With one such warrior did Varixx commune with, kneeling down beside the warrior and conducting prayer with him.

The orc looked to be in the later years of his life given the stark white hair that clung to the back and sides of his ears. A look of astonishment at having his legion commander kneel down in prayer beside him gave way to a toothy grin of admiration. Quiet whispers became boisterous statements as their dual voices invited more to join in. The orcs around them did so, dropping whatever they were doing as Varixx raised his head and locked onto the statue with a piercing gaze.

"My glorious god, we give thanks to you this day for providing us with battle to wage. All of your warriors gathered here know that by waging such battle, we give homage to your glorious existence! With every war chant and every swing our sword we commit our souls to your cause! Though our army is insignificant compared to your nightmarish fury, we march with your banners and seek to bring even greater glory to your holy name!"

Low murmurs began to chant around him. "Zek. Zek! Zek! Zek!"

Varixx raised his head, taking a cleansing breath. "Rallos Zek, my lord! You alone preach the truth of existence! The universe began with chaos and turmoil and in chaos and turmoil will it become again! We stand in accord with your philosophy and give praise to your wisdom by making war, thus re-creating the chaos and turmoil that existence really is!"

Varixx noticed that he was starting to lose some of the dimmer warriors so he changed tactics a bit, smiling like a priest attending to his congregation. He'd gotten far to acustomed to dealing with the elite class Rallosians who possessed a fair level of intelligence or the supreme general and the emperor who were as witty and cunning as any other ruler. As a result, he'd forgotten that the average warrior understood few words in speeches, taking heart to actions rather than words.

The chant rose a bit in tempo as he stood up, turning to face them with a fist clenched tightly.

"We were beaten today, my warriors! But do not despair! Rallos Zek helps us to remember that it doesn't matter if we win or lose a battle! All that matters is that we _fight_! All you should concern yourselves with is fighting and slaughtering our enemy in Zek's name! Spread our gospel to the enemy with arrows and spears, catapults and cavalry charges! Let their broken bodies litter our island and serve as examples to the heathens that challenge us!"

"His voice rose to almost a shout. "Let the enemy know that we are Rallosians and no one makes war like we do! Remind the enemy that the only path left open to them is the road to defeat!"

The chorus rose to a single loud shout as all the orcs present called out to their god in one unified voice. "Zek!" Taking another deep breath, Varixx stood up and patted the aging orc on the shoulder, noticing that the fellow had tears in his eyes.

"Thank you sir! Thank you!" Rising to his feet, the orc saluted crisply.

Varixx patted him on the shoulder again, unable to think of anything to say. He realized that there was nothing that needed to be said and he inclined his head gently before moving on, knowing the eyes that followed his departure held untold loyalty.

He continued through the camp. A group of orcs playing a game of dice stopped and jumped to attention as he approached and they saluted crisply. Varixx bid them to stand easy and passed through, stopping to make a comment or ask a question before continuing on. He thought about making some kind of speech or statement but the looks he received told him that there was no need. His presence was louder than words and it screamed a message: yes we were defeated but we are still here. We are still ready to make war at any opportunity! We will not stop until we are all victorious or dead and our island is free of human control or burned to ash around us!

It was drawing close to midnight before he received the casualty report from a young, out of breath message runner. Lighting a small candle, his violet eyes scanned the paper and a low growl emanated from behind clenched teeth. It was worse than he had feared. Two thousand dead, almost double that number wounded or missing. A second messenger found his command tent shortly after that and handed reports from the other two legions. They'd both suffered terribly as well. The third legion had been reduced to just forty five percent combat capacity.

_Gods damn it!_ An angry hand crumbled the papers and threw them into the fire pit. He'd known that the attack hadn't been the best decision but even he had been unprepared for the level of failure that had been sustained as a result. Sighing, he sat on a large rock near the fire as his personal aide came out from his command tent and approached him, bowing low.

"I've prepared your bed sir," she said humbly.

Varixx turned to the half orc and shook his head. "You know I don't sleep after a battle." He pointed to his head. "There are too many calculations and strategies floating around inside my head to warrant a wink of sleep."

"That's true sir, but given how exhausted you are, I figured this time would be an acceptation."

Varixx turned to face her, chuckling with surprise. "Quite a feat that is."

He chuckled at her confusion. "To tell how I look and feel when you cannot even see my face," he explained.

"I am your aide," she retorted, smiling gently. "It's my job."

"That you are, Dareria." He conceded the point, gesturing to a spot beside him in front of the fire. "Sit. There need not be any decorum after a defeat this bad."

She obliged, sitting down near him and holding out her hands to the warm fire that turned away the cool night of the wasteland. Running a hand through her short black hair, she eyed her esteemed general, thinking for a moment. Varixx concentrated on the fire, aware of her looking at him but saying nothing about it. Somewhere off in the distance a mournful wolf called out, its voice echoing ethereally off of the mountain pass nearby.

"My lord? Are you discouraged?" she finally asked.

"Discouraged? No. As Rallos Zek teaches us, any battle that is waged is done so in his honor, victory or not. Those Qeynosians who think they are waging a war of valor under their god Mithanial Marr are really giving tribute to Zek without even realizing it."

He paused, folding his gauntlet clad hands. "However, I confess that I am far more jovial after a victory. Luck is on our side however. In this war, it isn't always necessary to win, only to keep fighting."

"Will the enemy attack us in revenge?"

He snorted. "I wish. We're dug in and prepared for it. It would be nice to return the favor from this afternoon. No, Dareria. The enemy has the Jagged Hills, the forces to keep it, and the opportunity to launch further well supplied attacks at their leisure. They are most certainly content for now."

She nodded thoughtfully, scratching her cheek. "This war hasn't bode well for us so far."

Varixx waved a hand dismissively. "We still have the advantage in this terrain. We'll fight for every inch of ground. The orcs of ZekIsland build their lives around war. The Qeynosians do not. With every soldier lost the queen will face growing demands by the people to end the war. No one cares about a battle on some out of the way and insignificant island kingdom that poses little direct threat to Qeynos or Antonica. Things will turn around, you'll see. I just hope for the sake of our pride that it comes as a result of a victory in battle rather than pressure on the queen from her subjects."

Dareria nodded, falling silent.

"How is your father?" Varixx asked, changing the subject.

"Well, thank you sir. He tried to sign up but he was deemed too old to serve."

"I never thought to ask, but did you find a mate at last after I left Zek the last time?"

She blushed, shaking her head. "None have been worthy sir. None are like you."

Varixx eyed her for a moment, saying nothing. He'd known Dareria since she was a teenager. Back when he'd come to Zek the first time around, he'd saved her life from a gang who'd gone overboard on harassing her. What had started off as a teasing session over the fact that she was only half orc had quickly become a scuffle that had almost cost the girl her life. After he'd saved her, the enamored girl had followed him everywhere he'd gone despite his every effort to get rid of her. Eventually he'd just given up and accepted her as his personal attendant.

During their time together he'd discovered just how smart she was. The girl wasn't entirely unattractive, even for a half breed, and she made no effort to hide her desire for him. After training one day he'd returned to his tent to find her there. Timidly she'd approached him and disrobed, physically offering herself to him. With a gentle reproach he'd taken off his cloak and wrapped it around her, explaining that while he was flattered, there was no place in the army for such a relationship, even if he was a single father.

Slightly heartbroken, the incident did little to abolish Dareria's almost fanatical devotion. When he'd finally left Zek to return home, she'd used her loneliness and pain in conjunction with the training he'd provided her to further hone her skills, thus acquiring greater strength. Orcs that had shunned her now approached to make her theirs. She defeated them all in detail.

When the war had come and Varixx returned to help, she had been the first one at his side. Now working as his official aide-to-camp, she carried out much of his administrative duties without complaint.

"You'll find the right one," he said after a while, turning back to look at the stars above the horizon.

She shrugged. "If I live through this war."

He chuckled. "We'll both survive. Our army will not lose this war. We have too much at stake. The Qeynosians are fighting far from home and mostly for reasons they themselves wouldn't otherwise care about. We're fighting with our backs to the wall. If we lose it's the end of everything."

"But they have such strong soldiers sir," she whispered. "We have determination but… well look how far that's gotten us."

"A cornered animal is still very much something to fear," he reminded her. "When an opportunity comes for us to really bite back, we will."

They sat there in silence for a long time. Varixx wasn't entirely sure when he dozed off but on some level he knew he had. Shadows and images just out of reach circled around his deluded conciousness and then he fell. On some level he felt it but trying to slow his descent was like trying to grab hold of sunlight. Further and further his dreams pulled him in until he became one with the potent memory that was determined to be relieved. All Varixx could do was surrender to the inevitable and remember.

The city of Freeport, the dark counterpart to Qeynos and all its splendor stretched across the skyline around him as he sat hunched over in a dark alley. The ocean lapped at the stone barriers along the docks of East Freeport like a dog's tounge, sending ocean spray into the air. The heavy salt smell of the ocean assaulted Varixx's nostrils. However, even the pungent smell of rotting sea life could not compare to the smells of the gore that littered the ground before him.

The dark hour left few wandering the always dangerous streets. The guard who patrolled this section had stolen himself away for a nap in dereliction of his duties. Midnight had come and gone leaving Varixx to endure the third day of his curse in suffering silence. It was hard to imagine that only three days had gone by since he had been betrayed by his close friend. It felt more like three decades.

Bent over, Varixx wrapped his arms around his waist and tried to fight the euphoric sensations that accompanied his first feeding. The victim, a human woman in her late fifties lay dead at his feet with jagged fang wounds ripped into the flesh of her neck and juggler vein. Her blood soaked the front of Varixx's clothes, having dripped down from his lips like some kind of grotesque waterfall. The blood that had not escaped his mouth now sped through his veins, rejuvenating his body and beating back the ravaging hunger that had all but consumed his senses.

His vile actions added to his misery and he wept openly, crimson tears staining his cheeks. He had become that which he hated most, an abomination and a monster. That was the most cruel experience of it all.

A deafening scream of self loathing. Then there was only darkness.

Varixx awoke with a start, clutching at the warm blanket that had been draped over his sleeping form. Varixx took a few shuddering breathes and cupped his face with his hands, trying to expel the hated memories from his mind and pound them back into the far resesses of his subconscious. Dareria approached a few minutes later with a welcomed distraction of battle reports and movement orders for the coming day that had probably been dispatched while he'd slept.

Varixx was very much a creature of strength and he thrived off the chance to command soldiers. But seeing his tired yet smiling aide, he realized at that moment that it was the personal strength of his staff and friends that really gave him the strength to command, no matter what he really was.

A month later. Midday.

One of Varixx's guards drew back the curtain to the massive field command tent and stood respectfully as Varixx passed, stepping into the expansive room decorated in scarlet clad leather chairs and a stark white table. He was not surprised to see over twenty two corps and legion commanders sitting around the giant rectangular war council table that stretched on before him. At the head of the table was Supreme General Zorg and the chair at the end corner beside him was vacant. Varixx nodded his helm-covered head as the orc leaders turned in their chairs to greet him.

He offered a crisp salute to Zorg before rounding the table to stand behind his assigned chair, eager to join his comrades but following protocol in which he was told to be seated by the commanding officer. "Forgive my tardiness sir. A messenger came with news that required my immediate attention. I will gladly report during the briefing, if you wish."

Zorg smiled slightly and motioned with his hand. "I look forward to hearing your report. Take your seat general."

"Yes sir."

Varixx nodded a bit deeper in greetings to all the other legion commanders who were senior to himself before moving to sit. A creature of habit and military professionalism, he got along well with his hosts in this distant land.

The orcish chain of command wasn't any more complicated than any of the other organized armies of Norrath. Emperor Fyst ruled the empire and Supreme General Zorg ran the army under him. Under Zorg were five legion generals who in turn commanded twenty corps in total. The number of divisions in each corps varied on the size of each particular legion, and was further broken down into brigades, regiments, battalions and companies, levels that a legion commander like Varixx took no part in, leaving it instead to the junior officers near the bottom of the officer ranks.

The senior legion commanders, six war hardened legion generals, returned his gesture with sincere camaraderie. When Varixx had first arrived on the island to help out in the war, he couldn't have imagined that they'd assign a non orc to a position of authority. Now, almost two years later his creativity in battle and non-orcish mentality had earned him the badge of general he now took so much pride in.

Instead of being out of place as he once feared he would be, the other commanders viewed him as something of an inspiration. Because of this, Zorg had the excuse he needed to promote his friend and name him an official orc in spirit and courage. This promotion had come hand-in-hand with command of the 7th legion when legion general Gorgar had met an untimely end at the Battle of the Vallon Mines over a year ago. They all viewed him as a battle brother of Zek now, though some scarcely tried to conceal their jealously over his close relationship with the supreme general.

The command tent smelled rank with body odor. Orcs were not known for their hygiene and it was only thanks to months of living amongst them that Varixx had gotten used to their pungent stench. He adjusted his posture in the simple wooden chair and felt it creak under the weight of his armor, making a face as the stink in the room briefly overpowered his heightened sense of smell.

He spared a glance around the table at the other commanders and sized them up as he had every other time they had gathered for a war council. He took note of the new face of a former corps commander who had been promoted to replace a fallen legion general. Some of the gathered officers were extraordinarily brilliant leaders; others were just fanatically loyal and reckless in their haste to carry out all orders until victory, no matter the cost.

Zorg rose up to his full height of over two and a half meters and leaned onto the table, planting his massive hands on its edges and gazing at his assembled leaders. "First, we will start with a prayer of praise to our glorious god, Rallos Zek. It is by his will that we fight and die. It is to his sacred and unending war to which we commit ourselves. Eternal will stand the armies of Zek and neither death nor defeat will hold back our war machine. By the glory and will of Zek, may our standards be raised high over a mountain of enemy corpses and flap in the winds for time everlasting! Our lives do we give to Rallos Zek."

The gathered officers raised their fists and uttered in unison: "Zek is eternal. Battle and war is the only form of purity in existence. All victory to Rallos!"

Zorg nodded his head in approval then got down to buisness. "We've been doing very well this last month, even given our loss at Jagged Hills. In their overzealousness to engage us and protect the Greenhoods, The Qeynosians have overextended their lines to cover the vast expanse of land they have taken from us. If we can somehow retake Jagged Hills, I think that a strong counter-punch from our forces could create a sizeable hole in their lines and force them to retreat, thus give up much of the lands they've stolen from us over the last six months."

He pointed to the large field map in front of him with a sweeping gesture. "If we can re-take the Jagged Hills and the nearby crossroads three miles to our western most flanks, we can pelt their ranks with our catapults and archers and intercept their supply convoys with little fear of reprisal. On how to do that, Battle General Tarnok will now report and give us his ideas for a strategy."

Varixx rose as Zorg took his seat, his red cloak bunching up as it draped itself over the chair behind him. "This assault will be very risky and potentially costly," he said frankly. His bluntness caused more than one of his peers to blink and look at each other.

"I wish I could say otherwise, but we won't be dealing with knight-controlled peasant militias at the Jagged Hills. Scouts have confirmed the presence of four dug in Qeynosian corps with at least two battalions of arches and twelve ballista now fortefiying the position. That's twice the size of the force we fought against last month at the first battle of Jagged Hills. Gentlemen, this one spot contains over forty percent of their available military forces on the island. What's even worse, we've seen at least two regiments of cavalry patrolling the area around the Jagged Hills. They are determined to deprive us of a sneak attack option."

Zorg frowned. "So you suggest another frontal assault then? That would cost us the lives of thousands of troops. It didn't work the last time and as you just said, the enemy has doubled in strength now."

Varixx nodded his head. "You are correct, sir. For all intents and purposes, an entire army now occupies that position. Whoever controls this army possesses a sound intellect and a strong grasp on unconventional strategy. I saw that first hand during the last battle."

Legion General Yiur gestured questioningly. "Maya Stands?"

Varixx nodded. "Possibly. Given this information, I'm not suggesting a full frontal assault, at least not at first. I will explain my idea in detail."

He leaned forward and swept his hand across the map for emphasis. "As you know, the enemy has gained vast expanses of our territory by taking a position, fortifying it, and leapfrogging to the next. It's been confirmed that at least some advanced units and scouts will soon detatch from the strongly entrenched units at Jagged Hills to fortify an area closer to us so that they can engage our forces more directly. What's more, my advanced recon scouts have confirmed that two large convoys of Qeynosian merchants and volunteers are bringing in enough supplies and equipment for the army to fight a sustained battle against us until the conclusion of this war. If those supplies reach this forward unit they will have the materials to dig in and establish another strong line similar to the one at the Jagged Hills, but far too close to our own lines."

Varixx gestured on the map with a tap of his finger. "So, first and foremost we must intercept this convoy. I believe this wagon train will travel at night from the Jagged Hills to the new forward position. If my information is correct, this supply train is strangely lacking in military escort power. It's a very tempting target."

"Almost too tempting," Ter, a seasoned corps commander interjected. "It could be a trap, sir. There is no logic to sending out untrained personnel into a high risk combat environment. They have to be counting on us to take the bait." Others in the room grunted in approval at his logic, thumping their hands on the table.

Varixx turned to the lesser ranked officer and nodded. "I agree. However, it's a prize worth pursuing. We have never seen this kind of recklessness from them before, and we might not again. If we can spring whatever trap they have in store for us and capture it, then any hopes for a prolonged offensive against us in this region will die. The added bonus is that the slaughter of their non-combatants might put pressure on the citizens back in their capitol and end this struggle all the sooner."

Some of the officers pounded their fists on the table in support of his theory while others just looked on in quiet disbelief. Ter folded his arms and leaned back in his chair, clearly unconvinced.

Varixx tapped the map again for emphasis. "In order to make all our plans successful we must eliminate that convoy and the forward most units before word can be sent back that they are under attack. Once the enemy is eliminated, we can use the cover of darkness and their own convoy wagons to move in close to their army at the Jagged Hills. They'll be expecting the convoy to return after dropping off the supplies anyways, so it won't seem suspicious. While a strike team force inside the the wagon convoy distracts the Qeynosian soldiers inside their own camp by destroying ballista emplacements, our main forces can attack their flanks and center in a pincher maneuver and grind them to dust."

Zorg nodded. "I trust that since this is your plan that your legion is prepared to undertake both the convoy attack and the initial attack on the Jagged Hills?"

Varixx nodded. "Yes sir. I will not fail. I only ask of my fellow brothers assembled here that once we engage at the hills that they spare not a second more than necessary to come to our aide. One caravan of hidden soldiers cannot hope to last long against so many entrenched enemy soldiers. We'll create as much chaos and disruption as we can. With luck, it will be enough to allow all other legions a chance at breaking through."

The room broke into sounds of encouragement and confirmation and again the prcs beat on the table with their fists. Reassured, Varixx nodded to them and took his seat as Zorg once again rose. "If no one has any objections or questions we will draw up plans for attack within the hour. Rouse our warriors and douse the fires. Zek willing, we will stand triumphant upon the coming of dawn. I'll send runners with orders shortly."

As Varixx rose and saluted before exiting the tent with haste, he was met at his rhino by his guards and a runner who held what looked to be a fist full of letters in his hand. Varixx approached him and gestured with his hand. "Field reports?"

The runner saluted with his free hand. "No sir! The scouts returned a few hours ago and some had letters that were found in the grasp of dead messenger birds near our lines. Others raided a few supply camps for information and found formal letters. I cant read them but one scout could and he said these letters would be of interest to you."

"What?" Varixx snatched the letters from his hands and began reading through them.

Walking up beside him, Zorg put his hand on Varixx's shoulder. "What is it, brother? Is it news of some importance?"

Varixx turned to him. "Very much so. This brings me motivation incarnate. These letters tell me one thing very clearly. I must work hard to bring a victorious end to this war, and soon. The enemy's moral is starting to wane."

He handed one of the letters to his superior. It was a collection of captured letters addressed to or from various Qeynosian soldiers to their families or wives back home. The letters varied in content as he scanned them over but one theme in particular was very clear throughout. None of the soldiers or their families back home had expected this war to last as long as it had. To fight and lose so many lives on an island so far from home was grating on the people's spirits and patience.

"The time to strike is now! We'll crush their moral and end this once and for all. By your leave sir, I go to dress for combat." Varixx saluted and left.

A few moments was all the time Varixx had as he entered his personal command tent and closed the flap. He undressed in haste, not the least bit bashful that his aide Dareria was present. Clad only in his undergarments, he kept his back to her and switched into a new set of armor that was a mixture of gray and red trim. Large spikes jutted up and out to the sides of his shoulder pads and he hastily snapped on a new helm that sported similar spikes that curved out and up towards the sky.

Working from behind, Dareria snapped all the clasps and buckles in place, vividly aware from over a year of practice as to how he needed his armor prepared. She'd secretly studied his chiseled, scarred figure and knew exactly how to mold the armor to his body. She tried to hide a faint blush as she marveled how magnificent he looked right before a battle.

Suited for combat and seemingly oblivious to her thoughts, Varixx turned and grasped his aide by her shoulders. "It's time to help turn this war around. Dareria, I leave my camp to you. Pray for our victory and safe return."

She saluted smartly. "Zek be with you, sir."

"He is. Always." Fastening his Rallosian cloak into place, he turned to go command his soldiers in the coming battle.


	5. Chapter 5: Trap and Counter-Trap

Chapter 5: Trap and Counter-Trap.

The Fourth Legion moved in quietly on the unsuspecting Qeynosians with murderous intent. Using a new gnomish device called binoculars, Varixx spotted the civilian convoy as it prepared to set up camp a few hills away. A thin yet solid line of foot soldiers who arrived the day before were already working on walls and trenches. More units were filing in on foot behind and alongside the convoy.

Lying on his belly, Varixx angled for a better look, ignoring the uncomfortable sensation of his armor pressing into his ribs. Quietly he studied the enemy and made a few mental notes as his aides stood silently nearby.

The caravan hadn't traveled with extra units, just as the report had stated. On hand, the Qeynosians had less than five hundred soldiers. Frowning, the hair on the back of Varixx's neck bristled. Something clearly wasn't right. While it was true that the Qeynosians almost had an intact defensive position ready, it still did not account for the lack of troops to defend it.

He turned to one of his runners. "Inform all my commanders to keep the soldiers low and out of sight. It is most certainly a trap. Tell them to sit tight and await new orders."

Varixx studied the land around the caravan and sketched out a map. He made notes on a piece of scratch paper as to where the enemy was most likely to ambush his men. It was a partial guess but then, but when a military commander tried to guess the movements and plans of his enemy, it was always a gamble. For over an hour he played out the coming battle in his mind, mapping out what he thought would occur. Making further notes before he felt reasonably sure he was ready to present his findings, the methodical Teir'dal sent the same runner to summon his corps commanders for a war conference.

At ten o'clock sharp, with the stars twinkling overhead and the table and map before him bathed in torch light, Varixx began his briefing. "All right, this is the situation. We have a lightly defended caravan in front of us carrying heavy supplies. The situation is a trap. I'll bet my rank on that."

He gestured to the map. "The same genius commander we faced at the Jagged Hills must be the ranking strategist here too though probably not physically present. The enemy is counting on us attacking at night to conceal ourselves as best we can. We are still going to do that. However, instead of actually reaching the convoy we are going to break off the attack and retreat after their trap is sprung. Then we will lure them back to a battleground of _our_ chosing."

One of his corps generals named Kargren blinked his one good eye in surprise. "Retreat? Why?"

Varixx pointed at the flanks of the caravan. "I believe the enemy has exposed its neck, so to speak, only to entice us to bite. When we draw in close they'll ambush us and probably with heavy cavalry again."

"What makes you think it will be heavy cavalry, sir?" Corps General Greavor asked. A younger commander with a strong overbite and a scar running from his right temple to his left jaw line, he was a good soldier with a level head.

"Thats a good question, Greavor. It is an educated guess. The enemy would need units that could respond quickly and decisively to any situation, especially as exposed as they are. While it is possible that they could have positioned a few batteries of ballistae or catapults, I believe its cavalry hiding out there. They would be able to strike hard and fast with little warning."

Kargren nodded his head in understanding. "So we retreat to draw them to us on our ground and annihilate them?"

Varixx pointed at him excitedly. "Exactly! I haven't met a Qeynosian cavalry commander yet who wasn't overzealous enough to charge and mow down a large amount of fleeing enemy soldiers. I'm counting on this one to be the same. General Garut, your corps will be in charge of drawing the enemy out and luring the fools back to the hills, out of eyesight of the caravan. At that point, I want your men to scream as if dying, drown out the sounds of the Qeynosians and make sure you're loud enough to fool the caravan into believing we are being slaughtered. Understood?"

The officer with two broken tusks nodded quietly. "Yes sir."

Kargren raised his hand. "Would you like me to run gank lines?"

Gank lines were reinforced cables that if placed in the proper spot, could decapitate fast riding cavalry soldiers. Even if they failed to find an enemy's neck, it would still throw him from his horse.

"This is an operation of speed. There won't be time to properly deploy them first," corps commander Gregin interjected.

Varixx agreed. "Correct. Speed is of the essence and as such, will not be an option. Now, listen up. I'll light a single torch to signal when its time to move in on the caravan, after we dispose of the main cavalry force. I want to keep it nice and quiet. Just sneak in and kill them. No noise, no battle chants, no screams. I don't even want to hear the enemy scream as we kill them. It might alert enemy units that might also be in the area. General Meegen, I want your unit to move in first. We'll cover your flanks in case any wagons try to bolt for safety."

Kargren raised his hand again. "Sir, what if there is no cavalry? What if we pull back from the caravan and it gives them a chance to escape?"

Varixx looked him dead in the eye with conviction. "I'm not wrong. I bet my life on it. No Qeynosian officer would ever send in an unprotect caravan past the main line without sufficient protection."

He rolled his map up and handed it to an aide. "See to it, commanders. We have war to make!"

Further orders were passed out and battle lines were drawn. An argument over some minor detail caused two of the orc commanders to get into a fist fight. This in itself wasn't something to be concerned about. During unofficial meetings like this when there was only one physical fight between commanders it was a good sign indeed. Once the two hot headed officers were broken up and the matter settled they all paid their respects to Varixx and returned to their commands.

An hour later. Midnight.

The warm dark cast itself across the sky, wearing a veil of thin cloud cover that blocked out a good bit of the bright stars above. The anxiously awaiting group of warriors clung to the rocks they hid behind as their small beady eyes scanned the targeted caravan with eager maliciousness. A pack of mountain lions who normally lorded over this territory moved to conduct their evening hunt elsewhere, as if sensing the impending violence.

A cool wind picked up, carrying traces of human conversations with it. If the Qeynosians had any inkling as to their imminent fate they showed no sign of it. Instead they busied themselves with readying tents to sleep in for the night. Still, it was clear to any commander who'd survived trickery in battle that the human banter was strained, almost scripted. The caravan people were nervous. It wasn't just because they were well ahead of the main line at Jagged Hills. Had they volunteered to be bait? Perhaps these "merchants" were really criminals who offered their service in exchange for lighter sentences. It the end, it didn't matter. They would die all the same.

The ruse went off as planned. Corps General Garut sent his warriors in, screaming and snarling, gaining the caravan's attention as was planned. The orcs rushed forward, moving as if to engage the thin defensive infantry line several hundred yards ahead of the caravan.

A call came out in human tongue from the lead wagon and just as was expected, over two hundred cavalry soldiers mounted up from behind cover. Hollering with triumph, they rode towards the orcs with drawn weapons raised high. While vastly outnumbered, these soldiers on horseback could handle units of enemies far greater than their own. A good soldier on horseback could easily hold off three to five opponents at once and a charge en-mass gave mounted units the momentum that was needed to break almost any line of defensive line with terrible effectiveness.

As planned the orcs spun on their heels and retreated for the cover of the hills, few having to act the part of being afraid. Fast as they were on foot, the horses were faster and scores fell as the mounted Qeynosian veterans overtook the rear of the retreating formation. Hooves stamped the life out of many of the retreating orcs and more still fell under the human blade. Spurned on, the lead knight commander ordered a continued charge and they plowed after the orcs, crushing more orcs into the ground as they trampled on, unaware that they were being led into a trap out of sight of the convoy and the infantry line.

General Garut gave the signal, a piercing wail that carried even over the sounds of battle. His soldiers spun around, shouting as if dying. Some even fell to the ground and spasmed, beating their hands on their armor, producing loud clank clank sounds. This gave pause to the Qeynosians who clearly had never seen such an unusual display from the enemy before. An arrow shot out, knocking the knight commander off his horse. This was followed by a dozens others and the orcs counter-attacked even as a fresh line of orcs surrounded the startled cavalry soldiers from the rear, brandishing tall spears to keep them from escaping. The trap had been sprung in the form of a square, a formation of death not even cavalary could break through.

The counterattack was flawless in its execution and over in only ten minutes. Orcs set about the slaughter, screaming as if they were the ones dying all the while they impailed or hacked their enemies to death. It didn't take long to complete their ghastly work and the bodies of the slain knights and soldiers were quickly gathered up and stacked unceremoniously in a pile while the horses, both dead and alive were carted off to serve as food in the mess hall.

Varixx watched with satisfaction from his command position, reaching over to an aide. "Give me a torch. It's almost the appointed time."

As his troopers prepared to move in, Varixx stood atop a small hill and spied on the waiting caravan with its precious few foot soldier guards. He allowed himself to smile with satisfaction. They couldn't possibly have imagined that all those allied troops had just been decimated and that even now they themselves were waiting patiently for their own gruesome demise.

Using runners, Varixx sent out messages for the troops to try and keep the wagons intact if possible. Jumping down from the hill and brandishing his sword, Varixx gave a shout to charge, raising his torch high. "Attack! Let none of them get away!"

With fluid precision, orc cavalry mounted on battle wargs sprang ahead as foot soldiers detached themselves from the rocks and barren landscape and ran to engage the infantry line even as additional cavalry, including the Mounted Vengence moved to encircle the caravan on all sides. Some of the wagons tried to bolt but they didn't get far before orc spears and arrows killed the horses and the human occupants who drove them. A knight leading the a regiment of foot soldiers assigned to the caravan rushed to meet the orcs, but it was a foolhardy act of bravado. Every soldier was killed in detail, almost as an after through. Hardly impeded, the orcish tide surged forward.

Varixx's orders were obeyed to the letter. Almost without any way to defend itself, the caravan as a whole fell in less time than it had taken to defeat the cavalry. Dying humans, elves, and halflings all felt the embrace of death during an orgy of violence. It didn't matter that the caravan was made up of relatively untrained civilians. War was not choosy with its victims. Everyone had an equal chance to die. Die these people did without much of a struggle.

One of Varixx's brigades fanned out and searched the nearby countryside, eager to spring any other trap that the enemy might be waiting to spring now that the orc legion had pounced on the poor under defended caravan. A lack of any kind of enemy retaliation in the area besides the caravan, its hidden compliment of cavalry, and the regiment of infantry soldiers caught Varixx's commanders off guard. They couldn't seem to wrap their mind around the fact that they had just taken in enough supplies to feed and arm at least three divisions with almost no resistance to speak of.

Varixx made his way towards the caravan and leapt up onto the lead wagon as if his armor weighed but a pound, motioning for the two hundred soldiers he had hand picked well before the battle to accompany him. They loaded up into the wagons even as the rest of his command secured the area and began offloading the Qeynosians supplies and the captured, sobbing women for their own uses. Long lines were formed and the valuable goods were passed hand over hand into the safety of the orc army's rear most war stock depots. For the legion quartermaster, this was a victory unlike any other and he practically danced as he and his staff tallied up their gains.

One of Varixx's corps generals approached and saluted, eyeing the women as they were herded into a closely guarded circle and bound at the wrists to one another. Varixx turned to look down at him. "What is it, general Meegen?"

Meegen saluted crisply. "So far everything is going better than expected sir! The dead men are being offloaded and stacked up until we can use them later. What are your commands for the women captives?"

Varixx craned his head around to look at the captives. Some were crying and huddled together while others just looked at him with murderous intent. What struck him as unexpected was that there seemed to be as many female elves in the group as there were humans. They all looked a bit rough around the edges. Some had crude tattoos adorning their skin, lending credit to his theory about them being criminals. "No prisoners will be allowed, general. Kill them all."

He paused and turned back around. "However…if the warriors need a bit of a moral boost first then I will allow that much. Just make sure you kill them afterwards and be quick about your business. Do I make myself clear?"

The commander rubbed his hands together, practically salivating. "Words cannot express the gratitude, Battle General! Will you be wishing for a woman for your own uses during the long trip? I can pick out the finest among them if you wish."

"No. To touch one of those… spoils of war... is beneath my principles, especially on a night of battle. I can find a mate back home if I wished to. Let the soldiers have their fun, but be sure they clean up after they are done. I also expect every one of my corps to be following quickly behind."

He jumped up into another wagon, watching as the war supplies were offloaded and the bodies of his finest warriors took their place, cramming the wagons full to the brim. As women serenades the departing wagon convoy with screams of despair and pain, Varixx and his men began the journey toward the heart of the enemy lines. Following behind, the other five legions of the main orc army waited with eager anticipation to strike a decisive blow to the Qeynosians and redeem the honor lost during the first battle of Jagged Hills.


	6. Chapter 6: Into the Maelstrom

Chapter 6: Into the Maelstrom.

Lieutenant General Maya Stands fiddled with the necklace that told the warriors around her that she was a sacred paladin of Qeynos in service to the most valorous god Mithanial Marrr. It wasn't as if any of them needed to be reminded. Not only was she now the commanding officer of the army controlling the Jagged Hills position but she was also a firm zealot who spread the gospel of her faith to her enemies in the form of a massive war hammer of justice. She was smart, cool-headed, and rigid in her discipline. While some soldiers under her command chaffed under her strict disciplinary methods, the fighting force she commanded, the Second Army, was still the strongest that the Qeynosian Expeditionary Force on Zek had to offer.

Taking a walk to survey the battle line with four of her bodyguards in tow, she brushed a lock of short blonde hair from her face and tucked it behind one of her slightly pointed ears. Her half elf reflexes carried her nimbly over the defensive works, catapult and ballista emplacements, and trenches. She noted with some satisfaction that the line appeared secure. She had served her majesty the queen for over twenty years thus far and never in all her assignments had she ever seen a line as strong as the one she now commanded. Despite her wary and cautious nature, a tingle of security wormed up her spine.

Hardy crews of humans and dwarves continued to make miniscule adjustments to the battle line. The way High General Learkis, her superior and the commanding officer of the Qeynosian Expeditionary Force saw it, there was no reason not to be cautious so deep in enemy country. The caravan that had departed her lines the day before would serve to supply the new front line, digging in and preparing much the same way as her own had. When all was set up her army would move to occupy that position and a fresh force from the arriving ships would move and occupy the Jagged Hills. This method of leapfrogging deeper and deeper into orc territory was a sound plan. If one force was defeated or forced to retreat, there would always be a strong secondary location to fall back to.

Even so, the orcs had been far too quiet today with not even a raiding party peeking out to test her defenses. Perhaps they had finally given into the fact that her defensive line was perfect, as Learkis himself supposed. She had to admit that any attack would be rather foolish to conduct. No head on attack could break her ranks; the orcs had found that out the hard way a month before. Four corps of human, high elf, froglok, barbarian, and kerran infantry protected the main lines, supported by three battalions of wood elf archers. At the flanks in her line, seemingly tireless cavalry patrolled to make sure her position was not outflanked. Dutiful dwarves manned her two batteries of catapults and gnomes and halflings did their part to help out as well with cooking and filling out the spell caster corps. What the orcs had hopefully begun to learn was that no ferocity of Zek-borne armies could overcome the multi-race alliance of Qeynos.

As she walked through the camp, men rose from their campfires and saluted. Smiling slightly she would stop and talk to a group of soldiers now and again, testing their discipline and building moral by taking a genuine interest in their thoughts and feelings. She might be hard as nails and a 'by the books' commander, but she was also extremely well liked. So far in this campaign she had not been defeated in battle, though this feat was a double-bladed sword. While it was great for moral and motivation in the hearts and minds of her soldiers, it could also lead them to feel a false sense of invincibility which could devastate her ranks with cocky behavior if let unchecked.

A career soldier, Maya had graduated from the QeynosMilitaryAcademy with a spotless record under the Paladins of Marr sect. Ever a dutiful person, she chose to honor Mithanial Marr with physical actions and deeds, rather than sit in stuffy temples and endure boring meditation sessions.

Major General Gauld Stoneweaver, her dwarven second-in-command, made his way from his tent to her side as he puffed gently on a tobacco pipe. His calm demeanor was disarming, making it look as if he were just enjoy a regular night outside the ore mines of Qeynos. Only Maya knew how fierce a warrior he could be, given the situation.

"Evenin' ma'am. It's a fine night for a smoke if I do say so!" He ran a hand over his thick black hair that was just starting to show signs of graying at the edges.

She smiled at her beloved subordinate, half her face bathed in the light of a nearby torch. "The advanced unit departed yesterday to establish the new front line, did it not?"

He nodded, having expected her to get right down to business. "Aye. The caravan carrying the supplies needed to set up the new headquarters and armory ta' be exact. They went out along with a full regiment of heavy cavalry and a regiment of foot soldiers. In a few days we should be ready to move the rest of the army in as ya' planned. The sooner we beat those greenies, the sooner I can grab my pick axe and get back to harvestin' in the mines o' Qeynos."

She chuckled softly. "Fine motivation if you ask me. The line looks stable and the picket guards look sharp tonight. I think I might actually be able to turn in at a decent hour tonight."

Gauld shook his head. "Tonight. Its already past five am. You've let your duties carry the time away again. Ya' better get your rest lass… ah! Beggin your pardon, general. If you don't you'll end up with wrinkles and those don't look attractive on any female other than our own fine dwarven lady folk. Er… not that I find you elven folk attractive or anything. You all can't even grow beards! Hmmph! Nothin' better than a lass in full bloom with a beard as fine as silk!"

Maya tossed her head with a dismissive chuckle and turned to go. "Supervise the fine tuning of our defenses, Gauld. As always, keep up your good work. The eyes of her majesty are upon us. Goodnight."

A trumpet from somewhere near the front lines stopped her in her tracks and both her, Gauld, and her guard entourage rushed to see what the commotion was about. That horn was only to be sounded in the case of an attack or if something else of equal or probable trouble was afoot.

"Where is the officer of the watch?!" She barked as a Kerran knight pawed his way over to her, saluting and pointing to the road that passed through the center of the main battle line.

"Ma'am, the caravan we sent out has been spotted heading back in this direction."

She blew out an angry breath. "One of our advanced scouts dropped the ball and fell asleep out there. We should have been alerted to their coming long before now. If they had been under attack we wouldn't have been able to send cavalry support in to rescue them, not within time anyways. I expect you to correct that problem so it does not happen again the next time. Have we established communication with the convoy to find out why they have returned so soon?"

The kerran shook his head. "We were just about to send a messenger out, ma'am. Rest assured the matter will be solved shortly."

"It had better be, lieutenant. If it isn't, there will be hell to pay. Make it happen."

A halfling interceptor mounted a small pony and prepared to rush out to meet the wagons when a voice called from the convoy. "Please, help us! They'll be here shortly! The advanced unit was destroyed in an attempt to buy us time to escape! The orcs found out about our new battle line and attacked in force. We don't have much time before they advance on us here!"

Maya drew back in shock but she recovered just as quickly and turned to Gauld. "It seems my ruse didn't work after all. That's unfortunate. Wake the corps commanders and get this army back into alert readiness. Bring that convoy in and get those civilians in behind our lines for safety."

Her keen ears and senses began to feel the vibrations of not only the wagon convoy but the sound of thousands of orcs, catapults, and warg mounts advancing from the north of her line. There really wasn't much time. The soldiers around her began to look a little nervous and she kept herself planted amongst them, spurring them into action. "Get ready soldiers! We have another attack to repulse! Wake everyone!"

She gestured frantically towards a nearby dwarven crew. "All catapult and ballista crews to their stations! Load all ammunition and position our archers to repulse early enemy infiltration efforts!"

As the troops blocking the road shifted to let the convoy into the camp, Varixx drew back into the wagon after giving the finest scared human voice he could muster. Clinging to the shadows, he held tightly onto the horse's reigns. He felt his bodyguards and the platoon of orc grunts who shared the space with him tense up as they prepared to leap out into battle upon being given his signal.

He risked a glance outside. Now a lot of luck would be needed. In order for the diversion to have any chance of success, the convoy would have to be completely inside the enemy lines before the Qeynosians realized something was amiss. For the moment, the soldiers and leaders seemed more concerned in reforming the main line as fresh catapult and ballista ammunition was loaded in preparation of the attack. Human and barbarian pike men and foot soldiers roused from their camps and ran to the line, throwing off the effects of sleep in order to prepare for battle.

Agonizing seconds crept by and the hidden orcs barely dared to breath as one slow moving wagon after another moved behind the enemy ranks. Varixx leaned forward a bit, willing the time to pass more quickly as a cold chill ran down his spine. A few of the passing soldiers began to look at the wagons curiously but it wasn't until one foolish orc lieutenant in the rear most wagon peeked his head out a bit too far that that all hell broke loose.

"The wagons! It's a trap!" One soldier screamed seconds before his voice was silenced forever by the orc via a battle axe to the chest. Turning to view the commotion, Maya's jaw gaped in surprise for only a second before she pointed to the last two wagons, which were still in range of the emplaced ballista platforms. "Fire!"

The crews of those weapons were quick to act on her orders and they fired immediately. Like immense arrows, the two wooden projectiles skewered the wagons, crushing them into pieces of timber amidst the groans and screams of dying orcs. Varixx gave his order to attack at the top of his lungs and in seconds orcs scrambled to dismount from the twelve remaining wagons and engage the enemy.

With less than two hundred soldiers to count on, Varixx knew he had to act fact and inflict as much damage as he could. He pointed his sword up to the catapults and grabbed an orc platoon leader by the shoulder. "Lieutenant Parg! Take out those catapults and capture those ballistae! Use them on the enemy and give us some relief. We'll cover you as long as we can!"

Varixx and his brave warriors attacked as the enemy soldiers fell back in confusion. Moments later, under Maya's direct supervision, they were redirecting themselves against Varixx's horribly outnumbered soldiers. The orcs closed in with the enemy infantry to avoid being picked off by watching archers and the chaos of battle reared its ugly head once more.

It occurred to Varixx that this mission he had selected for himself was probably closer to a suicide wish than an actual objective. He straightened his shoulders and busied himself with the task of killing as many of the enemy as he could. There was no time to think about home or his daughter or his friends. There was only time to think of his own survival and how to best insure it. He grinned as the intoxicating rush of battle flowed through him. It was during rare situations like these in which he truly felt alive again.

Three foot soldiers, two wood elves and one barbarian came at him head on. With his sword and shield acting as extensions of his own body, Varixx neatly sliced one elf completely in half at the waist, twirling his body around like a cyclone, ending the combative dance by cutting through the jugular of the second. Advancing like a lumbering bear, the barbarian intended to rely on his greater size and strength to defeat his opponent. It would have easily worked, under normal situations.

The bearded soldier gave a grunt of surprise as Varixx grabbed him at chest level and threw him to the ground with unnatural strength. Stepping on his barrel-sized chest, Varixx brought his blade to the terrified man's mouth and impaled all the way through the back of his head.

Turning and wiping the gore from his blade, he locked eyes with a nearby knight officer who'd just witnessed the event. Tearing off his helmet in anger, he charged with a bellow and locked blades with Varixx. The human possessed some fair skill with his long sword and forced the teir'dal to give his full attention, leaving him unable to cover and assist his dwindling forces. While not exactly a worthy opponent, the Qeynosian knight fought with courage and that was enough for Varixx to put a little bit of effort into the personal duel.

Their shields cracked together and the human set his teeth into a snarl. Almost amused, Varixx side-stepped and chopped his arm against the knight's back at the same time he stuck his foot out, dropping the embarrassed warrior face first into the dirt.

Varixx rounded his way to the knights front and looked at him expectantly. "Get up, knight. Or are we done already?"

Several soldiers tried to sneak up on him from behind. As the knight rose to his feet, several severed heads rolled past Varixx's feet as he turned around and raised his blood soaked weapons. "Ready?"

The knight attacked with the same level of bravado. A few moments later his severed head landed amongst the others and Varixx turned to help where he was most needed.

While the fury of battle was going on below, Lietentant Parg and his twenty five or so warriors assaulted the small hills above, engaging the dwarven catapult crews who fought back viciously in an effort to protect their weapons. At the cost of over a dozen lives, the orcs succeeded in destroying or rendering the catapults useless in battle and turned their attention on the nearby ballista emplacements.

From her position atop a hill nearby, Maya watched as her superior force drove back the Rallosians, pressing their backs to the wagons that they'd ridden in on. "A textbook suicide attack. General Gauld, pay this rabble no more attention,. Our numbers alone will ensure their fate. We need to reform the line in front and prepare for the main orc attack to come."

He scratched his head. "Er, attack Ma'am? You mean other than this one?"

She nodded. "There is a larger force on the horizon and it will engage us soon, I'm sure of it. We need to be ready to repulse it."

"But most of our catapults are destroyed."

She tightened her hand into a fist. "Then I guess we'll have to repulse them with hand-to-hand attack and a storm of arrows, wont we? Our numbers are sufficient and we hold the grould. That is enough for now. You have your orders, general. See to it!"

The fiery little dwarf saluted and scurried away to carry out her will.

Drawing her large hammer she gathered a small force of kerran archers to her side and loosed them upon the enemy as she watched on, killing any orc that approached her with one strong swing of her hammer. Orc blood splattered against her hair and left cheek but she continued her assault, determined to defeat the small force within her ranks before the enemy army arrived to assist.


	7. Chapter 7: A Simple Dance of Death

Chapter 7: A Simple Dance of Death.

Capturing the ballista emplacements was far more difficult for Parg. The crew members quickly noticed that the orcs were not trying to destroy these weapons but rather capture them. Armed with that knowledge, it became a game of the orcs trying to protect the ballista's from their own crews. At the end of the short and violent struggle where orcs would throw their own bodies in front of darven axes to protect their wooden prizes, only three pieces could be salvaged. The remaining orcs in the platoon quickly loaded the weapons and tugged them into a new direction, firing them into the group of archers that were murdering Varixx's main force in droves.

The missiles did their gruesome work well and ripped through the archers like a vengeful dragon's claw. Pieces of the archers scattered in all directions and the few survivors, including Maya, where thrown backwards as the massive wooden projectiles lodged into the ground with a terrible pounding crash. Renewed by this, Varixx and his surviving warriors attacked a new group of enemy infantry as Parg and his soldiers both fought off attempts by the enemy to retake their weapons and cover Varixx at the same time.

Coughing, Maya picked herself up and almost fell over again as a dizzy spell brought on by the impact gripped her mind in an iron fist. Grasping the embedded ballista missile for support while she regained her senses, she turned her head when Gauld waved to her from the main line a hundred or so yards away, pointing away from them with frenzied gestures. Looking out at the distance, she saw a rising cloud of dust as thousands of orcs closed in on the Qeynosian battle line. Numbly, she gave the signal for the forward archers to fire at the advancing enemy and turned to deal with the problem to the rear of her line once and for all steeling her mind and resolve for the battle to come.

Varixx cut down his latest human foe with a slice from his sword that caught the man in the temple, severing the top half of his head from the rest of his body. Feeling the ground begin to shake as the main army ran into battle with unnatural stamina, he gave a shout of encouragement, motioning to Parg. "Turn the ballista's on their main line! Disrupt them and give the main army a chance to breath through!" he shouted frantically. "If we don't disrupt them now our friends will be running into a slaughter! I'll cover you even at the cost of my life!"

He and his soldiers became a rock that was growing more and more eroded by the waterfall of Qeynosian troops that tore into his forces. Half of the two hundred orcs were now dead or wounded. The reloaded ballistas fired true, tearing into the enemy main line troop defenses and gripping the soldiers there in a state of panic. Their officers shouted orders to try and keep the soldiers focused. But even the legendary sense of Qeynosian discipline was lost with an enemy advancing in front and deadly projectiles launching at them from the rear. Two more volleys opened holes in the defensive line, crushing sections of the wall that the Qeynosians had hidden behind in the previoius battle.

This confusion and dismay served the main Rallosian army well as they finally met with the enemy, bodies and weapons flying as countless orcs warriors and Qeynosians committed themselves to battle. The brave soldiers' battle line held, but it took everyone available to stem the tide of the rabid green enemy bent on their annihilation.

Regaining full use of her senses, Maya took notice of the creature that was clearly not an orc give command to those who were with something approaching fascination. He was clearly strong and possessed at least a little strategic battle sense to attempt this gamble. An attack like this was akin to suicide and yet this mysterious foe carried out his duties with an unnatural calm demeanor. She felt his warrior's strength and it called out to hers. A strong desire to fight this enemy and bring him to justice flared to life in her veins.

Holding her hammer in a vice grip, Maya led the next wave of soldiers down to this warrior's position as he and his forces sought to protect the orc-manned projectile crews. Fresh with the blood of her comrades, the strange warrior turned to look at the next wave of attackers and locked eyes with her, moving to give her his full attention as soldiers and orcs instinctively gave them a wide berth, slaughtering each other with abandon and covering the air with bloody mist.

The sun began to peak up over the rocky mountains of Zek as the battle grew more desperate in its intensity. It had almost been an hour since the engagement had started and already casualties mounted by the hundreds. Both sides fought valiantly and it was as yet unclear which side would hold the battlefield and which would run in broken disgrace.

Maya closed the distance with her enemy until they were mere feet apart. An aura seemed to surround the two of them and the two commanders paid no attention to the chaos and death going on around them. Maya hadn't survived dozens of battles by needlessly rushing in. Instead she sized her opponent up with a calculating eye. Surely it was Marr's divine will that would lead her to fight and overcome this new opponent. He was clearly a commander of some sort and his death would do far more good than just killing endless amounts of peons. She ran a hand through her short, blood-stained blonde hair as he stood there, watching her in turn.

"Hail to you warrior," she called over.

He said nothing in reply, choosing instead to stare her down like a hungry predator. Violet colored eyes stared out from the dark depths of his helm.

"I wish to challenge you in honorable single combat."

Again there was silence.

She put her free hand on her hip. "You don't talk much, do you?"

"There isn't much to say to one's opponent on the battlefield, is there?" he countered. "Anything that can be said can be said should be done so with a weapon."

"Perhaps when soldiers fight," she conceded. "However, when commanders duel there is a bit of decorum that should be obeyed, don't you think? An exchange of words before a battle won't hurt. Otherwise we'd only be acting like lowly savages."

It took Varixx a moment to realize that she was serious. "No wonder you Qeynosians can't win a war."

She smirked. "This battle isn't over yet, much less the war. Besides, last time I checked we were winning. Humor me. Give me your name at least. I'd like to know who I'm fighting against."

"Varixx Tarnok."

"Mm. Corps commander?"

" Legion General of the Army of Zek. The forces you are engaged against behind these lines belong to me, the 7th Legion. Whom do I do battle against today?"

She nodded her head in salute. "Maya Stands, paladin of the Sacred Order of Marr. Lieutenant General, commander of the Second Army of the Qeynosian Expeditionary Force."

"Ah, so you're _the_ Maya Stands? Your reputation proceeds you." Varixx rolled his shoulders back, stretching a bit. "You are a very highly sought target. It's been a long time since I've killed a paladin of any skill, much less a half elf. I hope you won't disappoint me."

Another small smirk crossed her lips. "And what are you?"

"Teir'dal."

She put her hand on her hip again, eyeing him like a curiosity in a museum. "What is a Teir'dal doing siding with orcs? Shouldn't you be running on home to spread hate for Innoruuk? The God of Hate is the one who created your race after all."

Her smirk unsettled Varixx. Her eyes shone gray like polished steel that could cut him with but a glance. They had the same fire to them that he'd seen in worthy opponents in the past. He would have to give this battle his all or she would surely take his life. A part of him thrilled at the chance to finally face a worthy opponent in one-on-one combat, echoing the very same sentiments that had drawn her to fight him.

He pointed his sword at her. "I am a follower of Rallos Zek. It is here on this sacred ground that we will do battle. Come, Lieutenant General! Attack me! With every swing of your sword you create battle that feeds the glory of my god!"

Her smirk disappeared and she once again became the regal commander her men respected and feared. She adjusted the buckler attached to her left forearm and gripped her great hammer with both hands, raising it up to waist level. "Very well, we will fight. But know this; every swing of my hammer is to purify the heretics in the name of the most pious Mithanial Marr!"

Varixx gripped his sword and shield before rushing forward. "You are deceiving yourself! You swing your hammer to kill so that you may live! There is no justice or purity in battle, only strength, honor, and the desire to survive!"

She swung her hammer down hard towards his head and instead connected with his large tower shield. Locking eyes with her a moment, Varixx pulled back and lunged with his sword, aiming for her stomach. With similar elven reflexes, she angled her buckler arm down and pushed his blade away and to the side. Still looking deep into his eyes, her mouth turned into a frown and they pushed against each other hard before the effect sent both of them skidding back several steps from the other.

She rushed at him again, her hammer sparking at it connected with his sword. It was a fine dance, her graceful attacks and his solid defense and counter-attack. Around they whirled, back and forth and collided, forcing their soldiers to scramble away and give them an even wider berth to fight.

She fixed him with a curious look. "Hmm. A guardian, huh?"

"Now how did you know that?" his voice evenly inquired.

She continued to attack, swinging her hammer at him to keep him busy. "Guessing your chosen professional art is not very difficult. Your defense is solid, and your counter-attacks are stronger than your outright offensive attacks."

Varixx jumped back a few steps. "You noticed all that in just a few strikes? Impressive. I was right to face you myself."

She ran at him again and he swung across at chest level. A second before his blade lashed out, she dropped into a front roll and the sword caught only a few strands of her hair as she rolled behind him and onto her knees. Swinging while she twisted back onto her feet, her hammer caught his armored back. The blow was hard, harder than it should have been. It crushed the metal upon impact. Both the metal of her hammer and some metal shards from his own armor dug into his body and he was sent flying forward several feet away, landing on his face. His body twitched once and lay still as blood trickled from his armor and pooled onto the ground.

Maya lowered her hammer to knee level and watched the body of her enemy with an even expression. "You lasted longer than most and for that I salute you. I don't blame you for dying so quickly. After all, my hammer is special." As if to emphasize her point, a large magical elven rune on the flat part of her hammer pulsed briefly with light, bathing the hammer in energy.

Silently, Varixx stirred and rose onto his hands and knees before shakily climbing to his feet with a groan. "Yes, that explains why it did so much damage. That really hurt." He turned on unsteady legs to face her again. "You did well to conceal the hammer's true power until the moment you decided to go for a killing blow."

She raised an eyebrow. "How are you still alive? That blow could have killed a barbarian in one hit! It should have shredded your internal organs upon impact."

Varixx turned around to face her as she displayed her hammer. He saw the blue rune for the first time. It sparkled and flickered like precious stones, bathing the tool of war in a holy aura. "Ahh, I see. Your weapon has been modified by someone with incredible skill. Its craftsmanship is apparent."

She nodded and readied herself to attack again. "Armed with my weapon 'The Blessing of Marr', you will fall. You're the first I've fought who's survived a full on strike like that, but I'm betting you can't take that kind of damage again."

Varixx brought his sword up. We shall see."

They danced back and forth across the barren landscape, striking and retreating as the morning sun start to peek over the horrizon. His shield found her stomach and lifted her off the ground but she pushed off with her hands and landed on her feet, dashing to plant her knee in his armored solar plexus. He was surprised at how much the blow hurt as bile rushed into his throat from the attack. Despite the pain, he smiled. The more they fought and the more damage he took the more excited and motivated a warrior he seemed to become.

_His pain tolerance is unbelievable._ She clenched her teeth. Perhaps he truly was a Rallosian. He seemed to feed off of fighting.

He blocked a flurry of her attacks as she used her buckler in a much more offensive fashion, bashing it against his armor whenever she found an opening. One blow to his face mask staggered him backwards and she saw her moment to strike decisively.

"I have you!" She swung her hammer with all her might into the side of his head, crushing him into the ground so hard it formed an impact crater. Jumping backwards as a cloud of dust picked up, she watched in disbelief as he got up again after only twitching on the ground for a few scant seconds. Even more remarkably was the sight of his helm. It should have been torn apart but all it bore was a sizable dent along the right cheek. This led credibility to the idea that it was reinforced, a luxury the rest of his armor did not enjoy as it would have decreased maneuverability.

Something was seriously wrong. Her mind grasped for answers and she recalled her schooling, trying to figure out exactly what on Norrath was going on. She'd fought all manner of beasts and monsters in her twenty nine years of life and none of them had prevailaed against so many blows to vital spots, especially the head. Reinforced helm or not, the magic of the rune should have still produced a powerful enough blow to grind his brain into paste within his skull. Luck was out of the question. Her opponent was either a creature she had never fought before or immortal.

Deciding to test something, she pulled out the small bow that was attached to her back under her cloak and held it in front of her, firing an arrow at his breastplate. The first shot bounced off his armor, so she fired again and again, in the same spot, calling upon a prayer to Marr.

She smiled without humor, willing this strike to pierce him with a spell incantation. "_Divine Vengeance_!"

The arrow flickered and started to glow and she unleashed, shooting it at his left side of his breastplate. To his amazement, the arrow actually pierced and shattered the armor in that area. A small geyzer of blood oozed out of the wound and down the armor of his stomach. A moment later, a louder cry of pain eminated from his mask as a piece of his now exposed flesh became visible to her eyes and to the first rays of the morning sun. The wound began to burn and he staggered back a step, trying to cover it with his hand.

Dropping her bow to the ground, Maya laughed. "I understand it now!"

He winced. "And what precisely is it that you understand?"

She wagged a finger at him. "You know what I mean. I know what you are now! Oh,foolish Rallosian. You should have worn rune protected armor. Doing so would have saved you a world of pain just now. Tell me, how does the rays from the rising sun taste? Does it burn your heathen flesh with equisite agony?"

Varixx shrugged his shoulders, hiding the burning pain from his voice as much as he could. "Armor that expensive is quite scarce in Zek, I'm afraid. Also, I can handle light, and I will handle you as well. Neither are of consequence."

She began to leisurely pace around him, swinging her hammer in a circle. "What a marvel you are. You call yourself a Rallosian but you exist as one in name only. After all, to be a true Rallosian you must be one of the races Rallos Zek created and we both know the Teir'dal are not one of those. You call yourself a Teir'dal but this too is not accurate for you bear the curse of the bloodsuckers. You are all of these things and yet none of them at the same time. There is only one word to describe you, I think."

She completed her circle around him and stopped to face him again. Her smile was far too victorious. "Abomination."

Varixx snarled.

She smirked again. "It's too bad for you. This fight is almost over. You can't take much more, no matter how incredible you're fighting skill. Your talk is big but you'll start to slow down soon as your injuries increase. I am going to defeat you as I have the many who have fought me before."

Instead of shouting an insult to counter her assessment, Varixx just began to chuckle. That chuckle became a laugh and the laugh became far too loud as he enjoyed what was never meant to be enjoyed. Reaching up, he pulled the arrow from his body, tugged it out with a grunt and let it fall to the ground, barely taking notice of the pain. "Yes! Yes! At last! For the first time in years I've found an opponent worthy of facing the full brunt of my skills! Come Paladin of Marr! Make good on your threats! Strike me, crush me, destroy me! Try and break my body with your righteous convictions borne of the love of twin gods engaged in incest!"

She almost recoiled at his eagerness. "You dare…?!"

Perhaps she'd hurt him so badly he'd gone insane. Looking at him again, she ruled that out. This dark elf was truly a Rallosian in spirit if not body. He fed off the war, death, and the carnage around him. It seemed to soothe his craving for destruction and excite him all at the same time. The longer the battle went on the more he enjoyed it and quite possibly, the stronger he could become.

Maya realized she had to end the battle and soon.

Redoubling her efforts, she attacked him again and their weapons joined amidst a shower of sparks. It didn't seem like he'd lost any of his power. If anything, it felt like some of attacks were even faster than before. He met and countered every one of her blows with his own. Perhaps the rumors that his kind were supposed to be weaker during the daylight hours were false after all.

His voice conveyed excitement and he motioned for her to attack, as if this battle between them was the only reason for which he existed. "Hit me! You can do better than that! The morning is so very young! Summon your powers of Marr and defeat me! Let our weapons break each other's bones and leave our wills alone to decide who will continue to stand!"

Sheer disgust welled up inside of her. "Filthy bastard!"

Varixx chuckled, hunching forward with his weapons raised. "Save the pillow talk for another time, paladin."

"Enough of your insolence!" Gritting her teeth, Maya put all her power into a downward swing and connected with his tower shield. Two things happened in the span of a second. The first was that his tower shield cracked and split cleanly down the middle. The second was that his sword, which he had swung in front of his shield, connected with the hilt of her hammer and severed it in two before meeting her buckler. Her metal shield was strong enough to stop the swords momentum, but the impact still cut into it, cracking the frame. Alarmed, Maya jumped back several steps to give herself some room to breath.

She detached the ruined buckler and tossed it to the ground. "You sacrificed your shield to destroy my hammer. I hadn't expected that." From her waist belt she drew two small one-handed hammers and spun them, adjusting to the lighter weight.

He nodded. "You only had a rune on the flat end of the hammer, not the hilt. That was the best place to strike."

Armed with only his sword Varixx inched forward. The quiet warrior Maya initially met seemed to have transformed into something else entirely. His love of this battle seemed to have consumed his senses. It was going to take every inch of concentration and skill she'd picked up over the years for her to come out of this death match alive.

"What motivates you so much, warrior?" she asked, catching her breath

"Besides the truth that battle defines our existence, you mean? To put it simply, I have a daughter to return home to and you and your forces are keeping me from being able to do that. You are an obstacle to smash through and a treasure to enjoy both at the same time."

She blinked. "A treasure?"

He nodded enthusiastically. "Yes! A treasure of battle. It's been a long time since I've fought an opponent as skilled as you! There is much honor in this battle and that pleases me to no end. Don't you feel it? The adrenaline? It courses through your veins as you fight, fueled by the knowledge that any blow could be your last! There is nothing quite like it. This gift of a possible death and the delicious effects it has on my mind is the greatest present you could have ever given me, my paladin enemy."

She cocked her head. "You really get off on battle, don't you?"

Varixx lowered his weapon and rushed at her. "It is as I told you before. Only in the heat of battle can one truly feel alive."

"That's a funny statement coming from you."

Their weapons danced against each other. She snapped her head to the side, avoiding a strike that would have impaled her head. The razor edge of Varixx's blade cut her cheek and she felt blood trickle down her jaw line. Growling, Maya grabbed both her hammers in one hand and brought her free palm up to his chest.

"_Hallowed Judgement_!" A burst of energy accompanied the attack, enveloping both of them in a flash of light.

The blow pushed Varixx backwards and he had to kneel and dig his hand into the ground to stop his backwards momentum. She leapt at him again, one hammer striking his chest, the other catching him in the jaw, knocking him off his feet. She moved in close and he cut her legs out from under her using one of his own, flipping to his feet as though his armor was weightless. He grabbed her by the hair and picked her up off the ground, tossing her away before she could get in another good swipe of her hammers.

Maya hit the ground hard on her stomach and bounced a few feet, rising to her knees and looking at him with a look of absolute anger. Her face was smudged with dirt and blood and she rose up slowly, sidestepping around him as if hesitant to attack again. To her left and right orcs and Qeynosians continued to die. Both combatants had to not only sidestep corpses, but take out occasional enemies who strayed too close.

"Our little game is nearing an end, isn't it? Let's enjoy it until the last possible moment."

She set her teeth. "That moment will be when you lay truly lifeless on the ground, cave elf."

"Resorting to name-calling? Is that desperation in your tone? What happened to that polite decorum you Qeynosians were supposed to possess?"

She leveled her right hammer at him "Shut up! My last attack will finish you off. I will not meet my end on this forsaken island. Evil will not overcome the light of good! Not this day! Not as long as I stand."

Varixx raised his blade. "Your downfall will come because of your own ignorance. There is no good or evil. Life is rarely so cut and dry. But then again, I suppose your next attack will prove if that statement becomes true or not, wont it? Attack me."

Maya took a deep breath and focused herself, concentrating her devotion and muttering a quiet prayer as holy light played across her body. She closed her eyes and gave herself to her faith and when those eyes opened again, they shone like diamonds. "_Refusal of Conviction_!"

She attacked faster than ever, closing the distance between them almost faster than it took Varixx to blink. Suddenly she was above him, swinging both her hammers down at his chest. He blocked the incoming strikes with his left arm as power played across the armor. A snapping sound like the breaking of a tree branch could be heard as his arm broke and fell limply to his side. Fighting the pain, Varixx angled his sword up as she decended and drove his blade into a gap in her armor, driving the cold metal into her unprotected stomach as her hammers fell against both sides of his breastplate armor, carving huge rivets in the metal even as her body was tossed backwards like a rag doll.

With the blade firmly in her belly the mortally wounded woman crashed to the ground, dropping her hammers for the last time. For a moment she just gazed dimly up at the rapidly brightening sky with a dazed and confused look in her eyes. For the first and perhaps last time in her life, Maya Stands saw the world with both crystal clear clarity and a dull shade of darkness as her life blood quickly vented from her body. Like the coming of a harsh winter chill, Maya felt coldness spread across her skin and the blood that wasn't pooling across the rocks of Zek chilled within her veins.

Thoughts of shock and horror raced through her mind. Fifteen minutes before she'd been the absolute idea of strength, an infallible warrior who never lost a battle. Now after a short and intense duel she was a dying woman, a casualty of war. Tears pooled her eyes despite her will. She wasn't ready for death and hadn't counted on its swift advance. Her religious mindset tried to take control and prepare her for the end to come. She briefly recited her prayers for strength while taking a brave, shuttering breath.

Varixx's shadow fell on her and he stepped forward to look down at her, his expression ever hidden from view. It was hard to say if he felt regret for her sake or over the fact that the battle was now over. "It's over now, Maya Stands."

She almost chuckled. "I've been bested, haven't I?" she whispered, still wishing that this entire event was a dream she'd wake up from any moment.

"Yes." His voice had fallen back into an even, emotionless tone, just as it had when she'd first met him.

More silent tears wet her cheeks and she raised one arm up and looked at her hand. "Remarkable. You're in a class all by yourself. The strongest of fighters. I couldn't truly hurt you, no matter how hard I tried."

"No. I am not the strongest. But I appreciate your compliment. You did manage to hurt me, more seriously than I've been hurt in a quite a number of years. You should be proud."

"I can't be proud," she choked out a half sob, half laugh. "I'm dying."

"Yes, you are," he agreed matter-of-factly. "A sword through your stomach is a painful wound to bear, and you've already lost a lot of blood. You don't have much longer in this world."

She clutched at his leg with her hand, squeezing with what little strength she had left. "I don't want to die like this. Will you at least let me die with honor, as a warrior should?"

Varixx nodded. "Yes, of course. I would never deny a worthy foe that honor."

"Thank you. Help me up."

With his one good arm he helped her into a sitting position as she tried hard to keep from screaming as her fatal wound sent pain shooting throughout her body. Finding a measure of comfort, Maya placed her hands on her lap, taking a deep breath. Varixx allowed her a moment to pray again as he moved around to her back and drew her ceremonial sword of command from the finely crafted scabbard at her side. She gazed up at the sun for a final time as it climbed higher into the sky and her tears fell in earnest. "So beautiful… I never thought I'd find this land to be as such. So very beautiful…"

Varixx pressed the tip of the blade at the exposed skin at the top of her breastplate and angled the blade down, preparing to strike. "You fought well. If you soul should find itself in the Plane of War, do rejoice. I hope Rallos finds you worthy and does not cast you out into the Forgotten Battlefield as a tormented wraith. Farewell."

Maya simply bowed her head and closed her eyes.

The blade cut through her body, down through her heart with one decisive stroke. She died instantly as a final long sigh escaped her lips, releasing her soul and eternally freeing it from the bonds of pain. Her body pitched forward to rest for time everlasting and Varixx stood over her, watching the body of a great commander expire as a harsh wind picked up, rustling her short wild hair. When at last he did look up, he saw both orc and Qeynosians staring at him. At some point those around them had stopped to watch the battle of their superiors. Now that it was over, a look of despair befell the warriors of light and some even wept openly for the loss of their leader, a loss that could never be replaced.

Now that he'd honorably overseen the death of his felled opponent, Varixx allowed himself to enjoy the emotional excitement at having bested such a strong opponent. He pulled his sword from her gut and raised the blade high, showing his soldiers her blood. He was met with cheers of the surviving orcs, lieutenant Parg among them.

Though the battle to their front was still going on, Varixx gathered his warriors as the Qeynosians looked at one another in confusion. Deprived of leadership and unsure of what to do, they watched Varixx closely waiting to see what he would do next.

His orders weren't long in coming. "In honor of your fallen commander and in thanks for such an exquisite battle, I will allow you to flee the battlefield with your lives intact provided you give us no further resistance. You may also take your commanding officer but her buckler and weapons remain with me as war trophies. Any of you who further raise a sword will die here."

The Qeynosian soldiers began muttered to one another. Varixx pointed to the battle raging to their front. "I suggest you decide quickly, the remnants of your battle line won't hold for much longer. This battle is lost for Qeynos."

In the end most of the warriors left the battlefield dejected and frightened. Varixx ordered that an empty wagon was handed over for the sole purpose of carrying Maya's body back to the next Qeynosian camp with as much dignity as possible.

Several groups of foot soldiers and archers rallied around a few stubborn knights. They attacked Varixx and his orcs and a second slaughter began. The main orc army overseen by Supreme General Zorg broke through the enemy lines an hour or so later. Gauld, now acting commander, gave the order to retreat as the situation disintegrated into complete pandemonium. The groups who still opposed Varixx at last gave up the fight and joined their comrades and the orcish banner of war was raised over the decimated Qeynos battle works with a serenading howl of victory.

Standing with lieutenant Parg, Varixx looked down at his blood soaked armor and then to the bloodstained field of battle littered with corpses. Already carrion birds and other scavengers were consuming the flesh of the dead and wounded. Those Qeynosians who still clinging to life moaned helplessly, begging for relief and comfort that would not come. With barely an hour having passed after the battle, teams of orc soldiers searched the battlefield, helping wounded comrades and killing any enemy who still drew breath.

Grinning like a demon behind his helm, Varixx looked at Parg and gestured to the carnage around them. "What a morning it turned out to be. A picture of grotesque beauty, victory is."


	8. Chapter 8: The Aftermath

Chapter 8: The Aftermath.

A quiet settled in on the wake of the battle, a deathly silence that no one seemed eager to break just yet. The Qeynosian remnants fought a brave retreating action, fighting in good order as they made good their escape. They left many of their comrades behind as well as most of their battle equipment. This equipment was quickly gathered up and stored at an onsite depot under the watchful gaze of the orc quartermasters.

"What a glorious battle it was, paladin," Varixx whispered. Still riding the joys of his victory, he paused in his battlefield stroll and turned to look at the rising sun. He had little interest in the glowing ball of light, but if its sight had given the paladin comfort in her final moments then so be it.

Varixx turned to his aides, finally looking down at his broken left arm. "I think its time we retired to rest. Our warriors are exhausted."

Lieutenant Parg was at his side in a second and escorted Varixx back to the main camp as the orc legions labored without complaint to set up camp.

The Battle of the Jagged Hills had lasted a little over two hours. At the cost of over eighty percent casualties, the two hundred hand picked orcs from Varixx's legion had confused and stalled the enemy long enough for the main force to have a chance at succeeding with a breakthrough. The Qeynosian army at the Jagged Hills had been like a strong and powerful giant. But when its arms, the catapult and ballista emplacements, had been removed and when the giant's legs, the main line, had been taken out, all that needed to be done was to knock the giant off balance. Once that had been done, it hadn't been able to recover. Without the catapults and ballista units there had been little hope for the Qeynosians to hold back the orcish army any longer. The orcs had seized the day with sheer numbers alone, outnumbering the enemy force by at least three to one.

Maya's death had nailed the army's moral away within a coffin. Over the next few weeks the beaten Qeynosians fought a series of delaying tactic battles as the Rallosians forced battle, gaining ground at the cost of many lives. The Qeynosian armies fell back to bastion at the docks and the lands immediately around it.

Supreme General Zorg caught wind of some news that a Qeynosian royal court entourage would be arriving in Zek to view the campaign being fought thus far by the army. Zorg, the wily commander that he was, held his army back just out of sight, filling the enemy with the slightest sliver of a false sense of security. The day the royal troupe arrived on Zek's shores, Zorg brought all available catapults forward and laid siege to the Qeynosian fortress, pelting the structure's walls for over a day.

On the second day he sent wagons out under a flag of truce and delivered to them all their dead from the Jagged Hills battle. The broken, naked corpses of the women folk were made the most visible and the shock value did its work. After a day of deliberating and discussing the situation with the newly promoted Lieutenant General Gauld, the Qeynosians court officials and High General Learkis called for a truce to discuss terms for an armistice.

Both sides had reason to claim victory. The Qeynosians had shown the orcs of Zek the strength that their smaller force could muster. Their string of victories across the vast expanse of the island was proof of that. The orcs might be more wary about attacking soldiers of Qeynos, the Greenhoods, and the members of Her Majesty's merchant navy in the future. The orcs were able to declare victory thanks to the Battle of Jagged Hills, and subsequent battles, thus saving their land and keeping it under Emperor Fyst's control. Thanks to one decisive battle they had finally manage to best the better equipped Qeynosians and gain back all the land they'd steadily lost over the last year. Even more importantly, an entire generation of orc warriors now had personal battle experience to pass on to their young. In orc culture battle experience was everything and every soldier involved was now rich with it.

Two days after the call for an armistice, the leaders of both sides met in the center of the dead zone between the two armies. Backed by the Emperor's blessing and approval, Zorg promised that no further death to Qeynosian soldiers or merchants would occur so long as the orc forces were not provoked into action. In exchange, the Qeynosians would be allowed to keep their dock fortress so long as ninty percent of the Qeynos military returned home. Furthermore, royal vessels would be allowed safe travels through Zek's open waterways for the time being.

It was the best result anyone there on both side could have asked for, given the circumstances. Both armies were truly unprepared for just how brutal the war had been. Qeynos in particular hadn't experienced combat of that size and ferocity since the orc siege in Antonica just over five hundred years before. The orcs also had a wake up call. For far too long they had dominated their island with far too little opposition there to keep their armies sharp and on edge.

Varixx did not attend the armistice even though Zorg had personally requested his presence. With his arm just recently set in a sling and his body still recovering from the battle, he felt that there was no place for him at a formal negotiating table. That event was a place to show strength and a wounded Teir'dal wouldn't have done anything to help the image of the Rallosian army. He stayed in his tent most of the time, resting and trying to regain his strength. By the night of the armistice truce signing he was feeling well enough to move around, displaying his injuries in front of his orc brothers like badges of honor.

That night the orcs partied as they never had before. For the first time the women and children of the soldiers were allowed to visit the main camp. As fearsome as male orcs were, it was the females that were truly impressive. Varixx watched with no small measure of amusement as orc warriors who wouldn't blink as an arrow flew by their heads cringed in fear when their mate got angry. Barrel after barrel of acquired Qeynosian wine were passed out to the troops. Food was prepared for the soldiers, everything from raw meat to delectable cuisines that would almost pass for mediocre in a high society restaurant in Qeynos or Freeport.

Bonfires lit the countryside and orcs gathered around them, telling tales of battles past and present. Others paid homage to Rallos as ornately dressed orc priests praised the victory against Qeynos as the first step in the revival of the true armies of Zek. Acquired gnomish fireworks were launched into the air, dazzling the orc adults and their young as they pointed and cried out with sheer delight. It couldn't be called anything less than the perfect victory celebration.

In his personal tent, Zorg and Varixx sat across from each other, enjoying their victory in a quieter, more dignified fashion. Wiping his mouth after taking a large gulp of ale, Zorg leaned back in his chair, releasing a loud belch. "There is a rumor going around that says someone in the ranks of Qeynos back home set that convoy up to be destroyed. Its lack of protection and the fact that civilian merchants ventured that deep into our territory is proof that something happed in the upper echelons of command."

Varixx leaned back. "That's an interesting little bit of information. Perhaps someone in the royal court back home wanted someone in that convoy eliminated with absolute certainty. Royal courts can be just as cut throat as any thieves guild. I for one would love to meet this person one day and shake his hand. I'm not sure if this person knew it or not, but by turning traitor he or she managed to help save our army from being destroyed in detail." Varixx took a swig of ale, exhaling loudly as his facial scars flared up for a moment, dimly illuminating the darkness around them. A look of pain flashed across his faces that Zorg had the kindness to ignore.

Zorg slapped Varixx's knee. "On that note, you're to be commended on your performance in that battle, Varixx. I saw the entire engagement from my position here and you were nothing less than an inspiration. The Emperor himself sends his personal congratulations. You did an amazing job."

Varixx motioned with his hand. "Hardly sir. The credit goes to the soldiers of my command. Any officer can plan something but it takes the bravery of soldiers for that plan to succeed."

Zorg nodded. "Very true. However it was you yourself who killed the enemy commander. I think Rallos himself smiles down upon you for such a brave act of honor."

Varixx nodded softly. "That is the only reward I could ever ask for."

Zorg leaned back, gazing out at the high night sky as the ground was bathed in ethereal moonlight. "What will you do now?"

"I'll wait until I've healed enough to travel and then I'll be heading home. I've kept my daughter waiting far too long."

Zorg sighed and nodded. "Hearing that you'll be leaving so soon after our victory makes my heart sad. Still, I can hardly blame you. The battle is won, and now all soldiers can return to their families with their head held high knowing that they sought and claimed victory. You are every bit as Rallosian as we are, Varixx. Know this; you will be my sworn brother for the rest of our lives. You are always welcome in Zek and in my personal home. If you ever wish to take permanent command of the fourth corps do not hesitate to do so. Rallos knows, the soldiers would be ecstatic.

Varixx bowed deeply from his seat. "I am most grateful sir. I can offer no guarantees, save one. We will surely see each other again, and on that day perhaps we will get to share battle side by side." Zorg nodded. "Long will I look forward to that coming day! How we performed during this war bodes well for our chances in the next one."

Varixx leaned forward and folded his hands on the table. "Will the Emperor keep up his side of the agreement with Qeynos?"

"Aye. For now at least. But he's really only agreed to it out of a practical sense. We have a vast population on this island but we were ill prepared for such extensive combat. We will learn from this. Until we become far stronger we'll play the Qeynosians little game. Little by little, we'll grow in power right under their noses. There's talk of even establishing a new, more formidable navy. The day that we succeed in becoming that strong will be the day we attack and defeat the enemy on their soil once and for all. It doesn't matter if that day is five years in coming or five hundred. For now, all we can do is use the lull in the fighting to strengthen our culture and our convictions to the eventual renewal of war."

Varixx nodded and raised a mug of ale. "A toast then! Here's to a day when the world belongs to the Rallosian army! May His banner be raised on every continent in honor of total victory!" He raised his glass up high and they both drank their fill of celebratory ale.

Zarg wiped at his mouth again. "Oh! I almost forgot to tell you. The Emperor's prophets have designated the spot in which you made your stand to be lesser holy ground. A monument will be made in your honor by order of the Emperor himself."

"W-wait a moment," Varixx stammered. "I just did my part! I did what any soldier would have done. I don't deserve any special treatment."

"It's too late to protest, brother. The Emperor agreed to it. His word is law and it seems that you've made something of a lasting impression upon him."

"I'm honored, though I still insist that it isn't necessary. Just being allowed to serve with you and the army is more than enough reward for me."

"Well I do have one present that you won't turn down," Zorg said smiling, revealing his yellow pointed teeth. "When you are ready to go home my personal ship will carry you. I have several handpicked bodyguard ready to escort you as far as the Lucanic lands."

"Thank you, sir. I look forward to the voyage home."

Zarg pointed at Varixx with his mug. "Well I'll tell you what I've been looking forward to. The story about why you wear that helm all the time. You promised to tell me after the war and I'm ready to collect. I will not let you go home until you share such a tale with me. Now is a good time with a good mug of ale to warm our bellies."

Varixx laughed and began to tell his story. The two talked long into the night and well into the morning hours.

Several days later, after a military pass in review and a chance to bid farewell to his troops within the Fourth Legion, Varixx packed up his belongings and said goodbye to his waiting staff. Dareria in particular seemed very emotional and she made no effort to conceal the tears that fell from her cheeks.

With sadness in her eyes, she saluted crisply. "I'll... I will be awaiting your return sir!"

Varixx saluted and nodded. "Return I will! You've been an excellent aide and I will remember you fondly. Don't forget what I told you! Find yourself a mate and discover a measure of happiness."

She chuckled even as she wept. "I will name my first son after you, sir!"

Touched, Varixx patted her cheek softly before moving on his way without any further delay. Clad in the finest armor Zorg could find, Varixx rode back through Zek with an honor guard escort until he found himself at a small dock outside of the Deathfist Citadel, stepping onto a boat that would close this chapter of his life so that he might resume his old one.

He watched the endless seas pass on into the horizon and waited. He wondered how Alexhandria was doing and thrilled at the chance of seeing his child again. Leaning against the edge of the vessel, he contemplated how big she'd grown in his absence.

Compared to the last few years of constant warfare the boat ride home was very anti-climactic. It only took about three weeks for the boat to chart through the strong ocean currents from Zek to the Commonlands but it might as well have been three months to Varixx. Now that his duties had been fulfilled, he was impatient and eager to reunite with his daughter. Even if she wasn't home he had a few contacts he could count on to find her provided he had the necessary coin. That certainly wasn't a problem since Supreme General Zorg gave him plenty of gold from the plundered Qeynosian wares.

The eight crew member of the small transports ship Meridian seemed to be a lively bunch, not the dour and pessimistic image of a sailor that so many travelers stereotype them as. They caught their own food while at sea and the ship smelled of seafood both cooked and raw. He was the only passenger on this voyage but the small cabin in the aft of the vessel could comfortably hold three other passengers. During this time Varixx spent most of his time in the cabin rereading old letters and trying to picture what his beloved little girl had been doing. When he bored of that he would stand outside and watch the sea drift forever onward. He rarely spoke to the crew and when they found him to be the strong silent type they ceased asking him questions altogether.

These long days helped his body to heal and it also gave him a lot of time to think about personal affairs. The one thing he took comfort in was that Alexhandria was strong and smart, especially in a pinch. She'd probably managed to stay out of trouble during his absence.

A sudden thought struck him. She would be growing into early womanhood by now! The thought that men had probably started to take an interest in her make him feel a bit uneasy. Alex had a good head on her shoulders but her mother had died when she had been but a young girl and he was never around. He hadn't attended to her development as he should have. In a Rallosian mindset that was not a bad thing because it forced her to become stronger and independent. But this philosophy conflicted with a fatherly mindset that he rarely heeded too and now felt a pang of guilt about.

"I'll take the time to truly get to know her," he said, nodding with conviction as his cape billowing in a gentle full breeze.. "I'll take her hunting with me and kill any overbearing suitors that come for her. I will not make the same mistakes again. I will be there for my child. Oh, Alexhandria, my sweet daughter. I love your name. It sounds as sweet as a morning lull before a desperate battle. You make me proud, my dear. It's your foolish father's fault for never letting you know that."

The only other thing there was to do onboard was to look after his miniature rhino. The feisty creature had bonded well with him and had never once shied away during combat as the cavalry of Qeynos and Zek had sparred for days on end during the war, chasing and counterattacking one another all across the island. The little war steed didn't like being cooped up on the ship and Varixx went and patted the creatures head, filling the tub in front of the rhino's stall with fresh food. "Just be patient a while longer, my friend. You'll have plenty of time to stretch your legs soon enough."

Nodding his head as if understanding, Devastator settled down to take a nap and Varixx returned to his state of silent musing.

At last they reached the docks of the Lucanic continent. Varixx hastily grabbed his bags and saddled up Devastator, spurring the stout creature into motion. Tearing out of the docks, the beast nearly ran over several of the dock hands that had foolishly been conversing in a group along the path the rhino chose to take. Ignoring their indignant cries, Varixx only pushed the rhino on to greater speeds. It took all afternoon but after being cooped up for so many days, the rhino was glad for the exercise. He made a game of their journey by spearing any wandering skeletons they came across with his horn.

Varixx traveled into the vast expanse of the Commonlands without incident and to the entrance of the Nektelos forest in short order. Neriak was only a days trek after that, the place he'd left his daughter and the city he called home, more begrudgingly given the changes in leadership and how the city had come to be run during its long isolation underground.

Entering the busy city, Varixx made for a small bar in the Foreign Quarter. Tying Devatator's harness to a post, he entered the hole and began to descend the earthen stairs that lead to a room some thirty or so feet below the ground. The Teir'dal guards at the door outside the room gave him no trouble. Their only concern was to keep the peace and stop any bar fights from getting out of control and disturbing the peace.

Entering the next room over, a small group of shady looking characters looked up at them from their various drinking tables and immediately went back to what they were doing, all save one. A ratonga sitting at a small rickety table near the door nodded slightly, his teeth chattering. Varixx pulled up a stool at a nearby table dropping a small mound of gold with a slight clank before buying a beer he didn't intend to drink.

After a bit, the ratonga slide into a seat beside him. "Yous don't wastes time, do yous, Mr. Tarnok?" the creature asked, blatantly counting the coins in front of his customer. "Word is that yous just gots back into the city."

"I'm a creature of action Squeeks. I assume you know what information I want?"

The little rat shifted in his seat. "How many times does I have to tell yous! My name isn't Squeaks. It's Ribin!"

"Whatever Squeeks. What have you got?"

The little rat scratched at his ear. "Before yous left yous ask me to keep an eye and an ear open for yous daughter safety. I've been doing I."

"Good. That's what I pay you for. I assume my daughter is in Neriak."

Ribin's whiskers twitched. "Well… I's have good news for yous and bad news."

"I hope it isn't too bad. I would hate to lose the life of a trusted informant."

The rat leaned back nervously. "Yous sees, with the war in Zeks goings on, things in Neriak have been really turbulent what with the Thexians makin troubles in the forest and all. It's been hards to keep tracks of your daughter. A lot of what I knows is second hand knowledges. Might be reliable, might nots."

Varixx was quickly tiring of this dribble. "Just tell me what you think you know then."

"Something big went down. Some members of the Raven Guard guild are in prisons. Word is your daughter is one of thems."

Varixx stared at him hard. "Alex is in prison? What crime did she commit?"

The rat shrugged his diminutive shoulders. "Not sures."

Varixx shook his head. "That's a ridiculous rumor. It has to be. Alex is a loyal follower of Innoruuk and a fairly esteemed citizen of the city. She might like to get into trouble now and again but I can't imagine her slipping up so badly that she ends up in the prison."

"Mr. Varixx sirs, yous pay me good to finds out things. I'm just doing my jobs."

"What is the good news?"

"She wasn't sentenced to be executed."

"Oh, now that is comforting…"

Varixx thought on this a second and nodded. "Then I guess I'll have to go to diplomatically inquire about why my daughter is behind bars."

Ribin blinked. "Diplomatically?"

Varixx started to rise. "By diplomatically I mean killing anyone who gets in my way. If they've harmed one hair on her head I'll crush every Dreadguard skull I can before they get me. Make no mistake, I will free my little girl."

The rat reached for the mug of untouched beer. "Er, do be careful boss. Yous can't take on the whole city!"

Varixx turned and prepared to head out of the room. "If anything has happened to my girl then I swear upon the blade of Zek that Neriak will burn. Keep me posted and next time your payment will be double."

The little rat rubbed his hands together gleefully and nodded agreeably. "I hope yous makes it out ok then."

Varixx rushed back above ground to his mount and jumped nimbly onto its back. Snorting, the rhino looked up at him, waiting for instructions.

"Make haste for the city center, old friend. We have some trouble to make to rescue a trouble maker."

Varixx rode quickly, keeping to himself as he passed through the busy city gates. He noted the bustling dark elves, some in a great hurry on some errand or another, others looking at him curiously. There was no such thing as true privacy for a citizen of Neriak. Knowledge was power and the more you knew about your neighbors, the more of an advantage one had. He also noticed the number of recruitment posters promising glory and fame if a citizen were to but join the city's army. The problems with the Thexians must be escalating.

An intimidating visit to the prison and a scan of records showed that his daughter hadn't been brought to the central jail for processing. Wondering if perhaps she'd been let free with just a warning, Varixx set about searching the bustling streets for any sign of her.

The busy crowds made looking his daughter hard to find. If she truly was in the city and if she'd been let out of prison she could be anywhere. For almost a day he searched, checking taverns, training grounds, and every other seedy or nonpublic place he could find. He inquired with dozens of people, showing a drawing likeness of her to better his chances of finding her.

It wasn't until he was really growing impatient that Squeaks showed up out of nowhere, scurrying out of a nearby sewer system cover and made a beeline towards him shouting: "I's beens looking everwheres for yous, boss!"

Varixx grabbed the little creature by the neck, making sure there weren't any observers. "Your information was wrong, you little trash mucker! No one has even seen her, much less the prison facility. You've wasted far too much of my precious time!" He gave a little squeeze to the creature's throat.

"AGK! Waits boss! I's have good information this time! Solid leads! I's even willing to go's with you's to proves it!"

"Yes you will. Prove it and I'll reward you. If you're wrong though, you will die."

This motivated the ratonga and he led Varixx on quick dash through the Dockside Markets, avoiding the watchful gaze of the guards. On the way the rat babbled on about another contact seeing Alexhandria as she wandered almost aimlessly around the city. Squeaks even had the name and address of the building she'd gone into last. Varixx wasn't really paying attention to the details and only concentrated on not drawing attention to himself as he moved through the city with all possible speed, forcing the rat to scurry to keep up..

"I's did some more research. It turns out that the queen and her court ordered anyones who looks like a Thexian supporter to be arrested. That's what happened to's your daughter. She got out of prison a few days ago, thankfully none the worse for wears. I's found her today and had her wait in an inn overnight while I's came to finds yous. I'll just add the inn fee to yous tab."

Varixx followed the rat to the tavern and was just in time to see the loveliest sight he'd ever seen: his daughter walking out of the doors, drawing up a hood and looking both ways for guards. Varixx approached her brazenly, coming to stand before her as his heart leapt into his chest.

What little warmth there was in his heart and soul went to her as he whispered her name endearingly. "Alex…?"

His little girl blinked and her face that had transformed from juvenile to that of a teenager broke into a happy grin as she came forward, hugged him tightly. Tears sprouting in her eyes despair herself. "Daddah!"

Hugging his young teenage daughter in his arms, the triumphant Teir'dal who returned from war in a far off land embraced the only family he had. "I'm so sorry Alex. I was gone far too long!"

Clinging tightly to him, she looked as through she expected him to disappear at any moment. "What kept you?"

Chuckling, he ruffled her matted hair and lifted her up into his arms. "I'll tell you all about that over dinner."

Her eyes grew wide. "Like... at a real restaurant?"

He blinked, noting with a pang of guilt that she did look a little malnourished. "Yes, of course. I have a lot to make up to you for."

"I haven't had any food like that in years." The wonder in her eyes stabbed like a knife into his heart. An angry frown hidden by metal creased his lips and he clutched her a little more tightly.

"I'm so sorry... I've been a terrible father."

Uncomfortable, she patted his face mask. "Its not your fault daddah." She sought for some explanation to ease the discomfort of the situation. "You were busy with war and training. Its understandable!"

"No." He shook his head. "You are what I should have been busy with. Raising you should have been my number one priority. I'll make it up to you, starting with getting you cleaned up. After that you'll eat enough to leave you full for a week."

Giggling, a little color returned to her face and she nuzzled against him. "I missed you so much daddah."

He felt like he wanted to cry. "I love you, my daughter. Can you ever forgive your foolish father for his blatant transgressions?"

Her little hand gripped his gauntlet and she flashed him a goofy smile. "Absolutely."

Relieved beyond words he did start to cry, shedding silent red tears of joy and relief. He carried his little treasure home to his large estate near the back of the city, eager to talk with Alexhandria and catch up with her, make up for lost time at being the father he always should have been.

This incident with the queen's Thexian witch-hunt was the first clue as to the changes and complications that fate would unveil, though he didn't know it at the time. For five years from that day he stayed close to the city and his daughter, leaving on short missions and hunts with fellow guild mates of Raven Guard and then only when he absolutely had to. It was the longest period of time in his life that could be called peaceful. During this time he worked hard to mold Alex into a proper warrior and watched with pride as she slowly grew up into a strong and determined woman before his very eyes.

But such an existence was not to last. Five years into this new lifestyle an event would take place that would rock his life to the core, and change it forever. In the meantime though a far more personal battle had to be fought, one that would cost or preserve Varixx's very sanity.


End file.
